An Amalgamation of Drabbles and Oneshots
by Jetainia
Summary: A series of unrelated oneshots and drabbles inspired by prompts given in various competitions. Marked complete as they're all separate stories, but oneshots will continue to be added.
1. Hogwarts' Loving Castle

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Themed (Rejection)**

 **Prompt: 'Hogwarts'**

 **Word count 998**

 **Beta'd by Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns**

* * *

Hogwarts was home to many people. To the students that stayed there and learnt their lessons within her walls. To the Professors who lived there most of the year and taught the young. To the creatures in her walls and outside of them; her presence stretching over the forest nearby and protecting it from those that would do it harm. Hogwarts was a safe haven to those that had nowhere else to go; she had been built as a place of safety for the magical community while they were being hunted down and prosecuted. Hogwarts never turned someone away, until one day she did.

She had liked him at first; he was polite and a bit shy. He was like one of her creators, Salazar Slytherin. Thin and gaunt, she nudged the House Elves to take care of him and fatten him up a bit before he left the safety of her walls. As he grew, he grew stronger and more powerful until he was the unspoken ruler of the Slytherin House. Hogwarts was fine with that, he was a Slytherin, why shouldn't he control his ancestor's house?

She saw that he talked with those that damaged other students and assumed he was warning them off. And indeed, he was. By promising them that it would more fun done outside of Hogwarts, on bigger targets. To Hogwarts, the boy was fair. Not kind, but fair. He would dole out punishments and look out for those who were weak. He would bring them out of their shells and make them strong. He was improving the lives of those in her care. She loved him for doing what she could not.

He had cried when Selena, the basilisk in her walls, had killed the female student. He had never spoken to Selena again after that, something which annoyed Hogwarts as Selena was lonely and did nothing but eat and sleep. He wasn't sad for very long, but it was enough for Hogwarts to know that the boy was still a defender. He had argued strongly against closing the school and it seemed to take his mind off poor Myrtle.

He was a curious boy, researching all types of magic in the library. Hogwarts often indulged him. Rowena had seen that Hogwarts respected the pursuit of knowledge; and Hogwarts would never actively stand in the way of one whose goal was to learn. She noticed, of course, that the boy seemed obsessed with those called the Dark Arts, but Hogwarts didn't mind. Her student defended the weak and made them strong. Besides, magic was magic and the students were there to learn magic.

Eventually, the boy left, and Hogwarts mourned the fact that she would most likely never see him again. A few years later, she did see him again. He was older and had lost some of the weight she and the House Elves had managed to put on him. His soul was split, and he carried a vessel that held part of it. Hogwarts happily kept it safe for him; she liked the boy, and she had missed him when he had been away.

Then came another boy, a boy who also carried a part of the other boy within him. This boy was in Gryffindor, although he could have been in Slytherin, and was just like Godric Gryffindor. He also reminded Hogwarts of Helga, the quiet determination to do good and help others, the tortured soul who only wished others wouldn't have to go through what they had suffered.

With this boy, Hogwarts also nudged the House Elves and they looked after him the best they could. So she had both boys in her walls at the same time, she could sense the Slytherin in the Defense Professor and didn't know why he hid. Until she did. She watched in horror as Tom and Harry faced off against one another. How had she been so wrong? How had her Tom turned out like this? He had once been a protector and teacher and now he was threatening to kill an eleven-year-old.

She watched as the body Tom had been using burned away when touching young Harry and the spectre that was all that remained of the sweet boy rose up out of the ashes. She would not allow Tom to harm Harry. Her considerable ambient magic formed a shield around the young boy, and Tom bounced off it, screaming his rage as he fled.

That was the pattern for a few years, Tom would appear and try to hurt her students, specifically Harry, and she would protect them as best she could. Finally, it all came to a head as Tom sent an army against her. She had been his home, if he had repented, she would still have been his home, no more. She burned every trace of him out of her walls and rejected his very presence. He did not exist to her anymore; he would no longer be allowed on Hogwarts grounds. He would not gain any aid from her magic.

The very air around the castle became poison to him, the ambient magic treating him as an infection and fighting against him. Tom fell to the ground as his own curse struck him. He lay there in Hogwarts' Great Hall as his body failed him. He did not feel the warmth he had always felt before; all he felt was coldness. Hogwarts refused to talk to him and he felt alone.

He was not invited to stay as a ghost wandering the halls of his home. His home was not his home anymore. A tear made its way down his cheek as he left his body. He could see the smiling faces of those who had defeated him; could see the way Hogwarts welcomed them with warmth and ignored him. The one place that had always loved him now rejected him fully.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly before leaving; he was no longer welcome.


	2. The Series of Unfortunate Events

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Drabble**

 **Prompt: 'Unfortunately'**

 **Word count: 381**

 **Beta'd by Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns**

* * *

Harry had always felt a sort of kinship with the Baudelaire children in the book series A Series of Unfortunate Events. They were orphans; he was an orphan. It was enough for him for the series to be one of his favourite when he managed to hide away from the Dursleys long enough to read. Then he had learned about the Wizarding World and how his parents had been rich; again, another similarity between him and the characters.

He only wished they didn't have the same habit of luring trouble to them. He never knew which of them had it worse, him or the Baudelaire children. Both of them had one person after them, and they both always somehow managed to escape the person. His person was Voldemort while their person was Count Olaf.

Their groups were made of three people. Violet, Klaus and Sunny were related by blood, and Harry, Ron and Hermione were as tight as they could be without being related. They were even almost the same. Hermione was Klaus, Ron was Sunny, and Harry was Violet, sort of. They had the same determination and both strove to keep those in their group happy and generally managed to make something up that would get him out of whatever situation he was in.

Unfortunately, there was no escaping the unfortunate events that plagued both Harry and the Baudelaire children, so they had to deal with it. They each grew stronger, better at thinking of ways out. And eventually, the unfortunate events seemed to be behind them. Voldemort and Count Olaf were dead; there was no more fleeing from or fighting against one man and his organisation.

One night after his three children had gone to bed and Ginny had finished washing up, Harry thought that perhaps he would write his own series. His own series of unfortunate events. Perhaps he'd ask Hermione for help as he wasn't much of a writer after all. Yes, Harry had decided that he would ask Hermione to write up their adventures and publish them in the muggle world. One book for each year at Hogwarts.

With that thought still in his mind, Harry got ready for bed and went to sleep dreaming about his first year and the adventure with the Philosopher's Stone.


	3. A Whole New Life

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Short story**

 **Prompt: 'Fly with me'**

 **Word count: 969**

 **Beta'd** **by Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns**

* * *

Flying was something he was proud of; something that was just him and not his family name. Of course, a few years ago he wouldn't have cared about what was him and what was his name. Then he met Lily Evans, and she refused to have anything to do with him until he grew up. Back then, he hadn't realised how young and stupid he had been. He still was young and stupid, but tempered it with a bit of 'Lupinism' when required. 'Lupinism' meaning to act like Remus Lupin, all quiet and smart, assessing each action and its consequences. He spent a long time thinking about this action, even talked with Lupin and Amelia, Lily's best friend, about it.

Everyone else had gone to bed. Amelia was keeping Lily awake, and Lupin was giving him the go ahead. James grinned at him, hopped on his broom, and flew out the window of the 7th year Gryffindor boys' dorm.

* * *

Lily and Amelia were gossiping, well, Amelia was gossiping and refusing to let Lily go to sleep. Suddenly, there was a tap from one of the windows. The two girls jumped and looked to where the noise had come from. Hovering outside their dorm was James Potter with a cheeky yet shy smile on his face.

Lily leapt up and opened the window, exclaiming, "What are you doing, James?"

"James?" James enquired, "Don't you mean Aladdin?"

Lily stared at him for a few moments, long enough for James to doubt himself and babble, "It's just that you keep telling me about how you love magic carpets and that scene between Aladdin and Jasmine; and I thought that maybe I could give you your own flying experience. I don't have a magic carpet, and I don't actually know who Aladdin and Jasmine are but-"

Lily cut him off, "Breathe, James. I love it."

"Well then, Lily, fly with me?" Lily grinned and nodded, stepping out onto the broom with help from James and Amelia.

They flew around the castle with James pointing out all the things that you could only see from that height. They saw the lights shining from various windows, the Whomping Willow moving restlessly, and the centaurs running through the forbidden forest. It was all unbelievably beautiful, Lily felt the urge to sing, but instead simply marveled at the sights her boyfriend showed her.

They came to a stop at the astronomy tower, where James flew in via one of the huge open space and landed by a blanket, on which laid a picnic. Lily gasped at the sight of the floating candles spinning slowly in a circle above the blanket; two plates were set out, and there were multiple cushions to lay on.

James smiled at her and offered his hand, "Shall we?"

She smiled and nodded, letting him lead her to the picnic and arrange the cushions around her until she was comfortable. He settled himself on the other side and poured them both a cup of tea from the pot. Perhaps not the normal date drink, but it was perfect for them and perfect for a picnic.

James opened the basket at his side and began pulling out a variety of was fruit salad, bread rolls, little quiches and, for dessert, Honeydukes' chocolate fruits.

Lily watched as James piled her plate up with food and smiled softly at him when he handed it over to her. She would never have guessed that this sweet man in front of her existed within the prankster and bully he had been a few years ago.

Now she was glad she had given him a chance; he had shown that he was willing to become a better person. The Marauder's pranks had calmed down a little since they had been dating, they were now mostly all harmless and in good fun as opposed to what they had been once before.

The group had even taken a break from tormenting Severus Snape, as Lily had once been his friend and didn't want any harm to come to him even after he had called her the worst name possible in the Wizarding World for the muggleborn.

As the picnic progressed, James started fidgeting until he could barely sit still. As Lily drained the last dregs of her tea, he got up on one knee and produced a small box from his pocket. Lily's hands came up to cover her mouth as she realised what was happening.

"Lily, I can't thank you enough for giving me a chance to show you who I could be if I had a reason. You became my reason to make myself better. These past few years have been some of the best of my life, and I know you're the reason for that. I want you to stay in my life and continue to make it better as you encourage me to be better. Lily, will you marry me?"

Lost for words, all Lily could do was nod. James' face broke into a brilliant smile, and he shakily put the ring on her finger before swooping her up and around in a hug, kissing her softly as they came to a halt. They grinned dopily at each other for a while before Lily lightly smacked James in the chest, "You made Amelia keep me up, didn't you!"

James shrugged, "Guilty as charged. We should probably get back now, exams are next week and we'll need all the sleep we can get."

"Well then, take me home, _Aladdin_ ," Lily grinned.

Your wish is my command, _Jasmine_."

Together they climbed back on the broom and flew out of the astronomy tower; the House Elves popping in to clear up the picnic things and smiling, happy that the plan had worked, and Lily had agreed to marry James.


	4. Hugo vs Chess

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Themed**

 **Prompt: Wizard's Chess**

 **Word count: 811**

 **May be vaguely AU as I don't have much information on how Wizard's Chess actually works or how sentient the pieces are.**

 **Beta'd by Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns**

* * *

Hugo Granger-Weasley was obsessed with his father's chess set. He would sit there and watch as his father played with his pieces and developed strategies to use in future games. Every night, he would lay in bed and think about the chess set, about one day having his own chess set that would obey him because they knew his strategies were solid. He would fantasize about sneaking downstairs and commanding his father's chess set and them instantly obeying him.

He would dream about the battles they would go through together; perhaps they would forsake his father and prefer to work with Hugo instead. He felt kinda bad about that; his father had worked hard to gain the trust and loyalty of his pieces. But Hugo knew that he would be a good chess player. He had watched his father play every night; he knew all the moves one should make when in a tight spot.

As he laid in bed one night, Hugo decided that this would be the night; this would be the night that he finally went downstairs and took control. His mother and father were asleep, as was his sister. The time was now, his moment was here. He crept out of bed and listened at the door to his room for a moment to ensure that there was no one moving about for a glass of milk or the toilet or something.

The house was quiet and Hugo slowly opened his door, tiptoeing downstairs and carefully opening the cabinet that held his father's chess set. They were not happy to be woken up, but Hugo was sure that would change once he showed them how good he was. Smiling to himself, he set up the board and looked expectantly at the pieces as they shuffled into place.

"Knight to C6," he commanded.

The Right Knight looked at him for a moment, shook his head, and moved to C6. On the other side of the board, a pawn moved forward one space.

"Knight to F6," the Left Knight also looked at him questioningly before moving to its assigned spot.

The black Bishop next to the King moved out, and Hugo ordered the Right Knight to A5. "Really? You want me to go there? I'll be blocking the Rook!"

"I don't care. I know what I'm doing now go to A5!"

"As you wish, but I'm not happy with it."

The game progressed with the pieces getting more and more annoyed with the fact that Hugo was directing them and taking no notice of what they had to say. It was when he ordered one of the Bishop to open up a path for the Black team to the King that would end in a series of checks before checkmate was achieved that they truly rebelled.

The Bishop and the other White pieces stared at him in horror, it seemed as if he didn't even know what he was about to do. The Bishop threw up his hands, "No. Just no. We gave you a chance because we know your father, but you are nothing like him. You don't know how to command us; you don't know how we work! You're just sacrificing us one by one and headed to a nasty end. I refuse to play under you."

He walked off the board and back into his place in the box. The other pieces followed him, and soon, they were almost all settled back into the box. Only the White Queen was still out and she was standing in the middle of the board looking up at Hugo. "We are not yours to command. We already have a good commander and we gave you this chance to lead us purely for him. We will not work with you again even if Ronald asks us to. This is the end of our affiliation, Hugo."

With that, the White Queen joined her comrades in the box and went still. Hugo sat there, stunned. They didn't like him; they thought he was a terrible chess player. How could he have been so wrong? He thought that they would rejoice to be playing with him yet instead, they had rejected him completely. They would never accept him as their leader; not even if his father asked them to follow him at some point.

No, he thought fiercely, this was not the end. He would learn more about chess, he would study hard and become the best chess player the world had ever seen. Better than even his father, no one would ever again say that he was terrible at leading his pieces. When Hermione and Ron came downstairs the next morning they were greeted by the sight of their son slumped over all the strategy books Ron had collected over the years. Nothing would stop Hugo, expect perhaps, the need to sleep.


	5. Pandora's Moon

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Drabble**

 **Prompt: Luna Lovegood**

 **Word count: 666**

 **Beta'd by Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns**

* * *

Luna was skipping; she liked skipping. It brought out the Rangles, the opposite of Nargles. According to her parents, not many people could see what they saw, some didn't even want to see. It made her very happy that she had the family she had and that they had taught her all about the unseen world. The creatures from both the seen and unseen worlds were her only friends, but she was happy.

Once, her mother had taken her to a nearby gathering of families to try and get Luna friends her own age. Unfortunately, even though they were young, the other kids made fun of her for so firmly believing in the creatures she talked about. Everyone knew that what they saw in the enchanted play area stayed in the play area. Plus, they had never heard of most of the creatures she talked about. What in Merlin's name was a Nargle?

Luna's mother had then held an impromptu lecture on the unseen world before taking Luna home. Luna loved her mother; she was the best friend a little girl could ask for.

An explosion stopped her skipping.

Smoke arose from her house. Not a lovely little wisp that meant the fire was burning from the furnace, but a giant cloud that left stains on everything it touched. Luna ran towards it, only to find herself already there. Ignoring that she had performed magic for the moment, Luna collapsed at the side of her mother who was lying on the floor of her study, covered in ashes from the explosion. Pandora Lovegood smiled slightly at her daughter; a hand coming up to rest on one side of Luna's face.

"My darling, what are you doing here?" Pandora whispered with what little breath she had left.

"I was playing with the Rangles but then the house exploded and I think I apparated."

Her mother laughed lightly at that, "That's my little moon; you keep playing with the unseen and meeting new unseen. Maybe you'll see the Crumple-Horned Snorkack. Never lose your love of life and magic, Luna. It may be all you have at some point. I love you."

"I love you too, Mum. You'll stay with me, won't you?"

"I will always be with you, no matter what."

At that moment, Xenophilius Lovegood rushed into the room and stopped as the scene before him sunk in. His wife was laying on the floor of what had been her study, on the verge of death. His daughter was kneeling by Pandora's side. As he stood there, Pandora reached out her other hand towards him and he quickly went to take it in his own.

"Look after her, Xeno," Pandora pleaded.

"I will," he swore.

"And look after yourself," Xenophilius swallowed a few times, choking back tears, before nodding his consent.

Content that her family would be okay, Pandora let go and went to explore the next world. She would find all the creatures and tell them about her lovely husband and adorable daughter. And when her family eventually joined her, she would take them to see everything she had discovered while she waited. She would watch over Luna as much as she could and ask the unseen creatures to look after her little moon when she couldn't.

A week after the funeral, Luna walked up to her father and said, "I'm going to find every unseen creature and tell it about Mum. That way, they'll know who she is and will know where to go when they get lost after they leave here."

"That is very nice idea, Luna," her father said, perking up a little. "Perhaps I'll write a journal of all the creatures you find and publish it. Then the shy creatures will know we're friendly, and other people might even understand the unseen a bit more."

"Let's get started, Papa." And so, The Quibbler was born, a journal that documented the unseen, creatures and facts, for those interested and for the unseen themselves.


	6. Sontarans Create the Best Days Ever

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Theme: Doctor Who**

 **Prompts: "How did I end up here?" and Best day ever.**

 **Word count: 1,780.**

 **Beta'd by Magi Silverwolf**

* * *

Harry Potter was bored. It had been several years since the end of the war with Voldemort yet there were still people clambering to meet him, marry him, or kill him. He had thought he wanted to be an Auror after he had finished school but the memories had overwhelmed him. He couldn't keep going into training every day and remembering all the people that had died at the Battle of Hogwarts.

So he had left the training program and then left Britain. Four years after the war, three years after he had left Britain, Harry had explored all of the world that he had wanted to. He had been across the United States, seen the sights of France, skied in Austria (falling down many times), trekked across Northern America, explored the Andes, walked around Uluru in Australia, and much more.

Now he was back in Britain and bored. All of his friends had dived deep into normal life: work and families everywhere. He was the drifter. The person who didn't really know what he wanted to do. He had enough money that he didn't need to do anything. Still, he was bored. He had seen what he had wanted to see and his friends had their own _normal_ lives.

As he sat on the swings in the park outside of 12 Grimmauld Place, Harry heard a strange wheezing sound. It echoed from a nearby alleyway and Harry was instantly curious. He hadn't seen anyone enter the alleyway from his side and it wasn't the typical sound one would hear in London. Thinking it might be something magical that would either be totally awesome or terrifying, he made his way into the alley.

What he found was a big blue box that proclaimed itself to be a Police Box. He was fairly certain that a big blue Police box had not been in the alleyway before. Surely he would have seen it. It was not, after all, very inconspicuous. Therefore, it had to be something magical. Magical meant he would have to call the Aurors to take care of it before the muggles got curious or deal with it himself. A voice that sounded like Hermione told him to go get the Aurors. He never listened to Hermione; why would he start now?

Wand out, he proceeded to the box and, not knowing what else to do, knocked politely on the right-hand side door. It opened to reveal a middle-aged man in a tweed trousers, a vest with question marks with a jacket over the top and an umbrella in his hand.

"Hello," the man said as he examined his surroundings.

"Er, hi."

"If I'm not mistaken, this is London, 2002."

"Yup. You got a time-turner in that box or something?"

The man spun around to look at Harry, pointing his umbrella at the wizard's chest, "A time-turner? The TARDIS does not _turn_ time; it travels through. Time is something that _turns_ ; it rolls around and breaks off and becomes a mass of squiggly lines that are almost impossible to interpret."

"Right, you've lost me."

"Never mind about that. Let's go have some tea, eh?"

Harry grinned, "Now you're talking. Follow me."

As he guided the strange man from the blue box to his home, Harry could hear Hermione yelling at him. Normal people do not find a stranger, who was possibly muggle, possibly magical, possibly something else, get totally confused by that person and then agree to have a cup of tea with them! Harry had plenty of practice ignoring Hermione; besides, he was bored and this man seemed to exude adventure.

Instead of taking the man home-he should really get his name-Harry guided them towards a small café that he frequented. It was out of the way and for the locals, always quiet and reasonably cheap. Sitting down at a table, they both ordered English Breakfast tea and waited in silence for it to be brought out. After they had both made the tea to their liking and taken a sip, Harry opened his mouth to ask the man's name.

Except the man wasn't there. Nor was the café or his freshly brewed tea. He was in what appeared to be a storage room, filled with metal crates, and there was a slight hum in the air. "Now how did I end up here?" he mused to himself as he wandered through the crates. One of them was open slightly and, curious, he peeked inside. There were a whole lot of metallic sticks that Harry assumed were technology and not metal wands. Judging from the way they were packed, he also assumed they were weapons of some sort.

Booted feet were marching his way and he quickly ducked behind a tower of crates. If these people had kidnapped him, he didn't want to meet them anytime soon without actually knowing what was going on. The door hissed open and in stepped a short figure covered entirely by armour. The figure held out one of the rods Harry had seen in the crate and was systematically walking through the towers of crates. Assuming this was some sort of enemy operation and due to fact the figure was paying zero attention to the actual crates, it was presumably looking for Harry or his companion. Harry's companion that was nowhere to be seen and he knew absolutely nothing about.

The figure was coming closer to him now and he quietly made his way to the other side of his tower. After checking that the figure was facing away, Harry dashed out into the corridor. He almost stopped when he exited the storage room. He was most definitely not in Kansas anymore. The corridor was metal panelled and light was emanating from circles on the wall. There was also a window-a window that showed a planet; Earth, to be exact. He was orbiting around _Earth_.

Shaking his head to clear it, Harry put aside the fact that he was apparently _on a spaceship_ and continued running to the left. He hoped he could find something that would explain his situation. Maybe the box man could explain. He needed to find the other man.

Suddenly, he was yanked into a side corridor by an umbrella. There was the man that he still didn't know the name of. Hopefully he could explain, but first things first, "What in the entirety of Merlin's scraggly beard is your name?"

"I'm the Doctor."

Harry ignored that it wasn't technically a name, "Okay, great. I'm Harry. Why are we on a spaceship?"

"Ah, that would be my fault. The Sontarans have been following me for a while now and I thought that I'd lost them. Turns out I hadn't and they decided they wanted to have a little chat about war with me. They're all about war, this species, always fighting and cloning so they can keep fighting and now they want to try me for crimes against them during their war in which I stopped them from destroying an entire planet!"

"Right, so what's the plan?" Harry was determinedly ignoring all the space stuff and instead focusing on what he could actually understand and believe. Which, considering that he was a wizard who went to a school of wizards and fought against a whole bunch of bad wizards, was a space war really that hard to believe?

"We get out of here and then we blow them up."

"Good plan. How do we get out of here? We're on a spaceship."

The Doctor smiled at him, "The same way we got on this spaceship, the transporter."

Harry followed the Doctor through the corridors, trying to take everything in. They made their way to what was apparently the engine room. There the Doctor fiddled with all sorts of things, pulling wires out of machines and occasionally passing something over to Harry for him to hold. Harry had no idea what the Doctor was doing except somehow causing the ship to blow up at a predetermined time.

The Doctor stood up from the machine he had been working at and clapped his hands together, "There, that should do it."

"What about all this?" Harry held up his armful of bits and pieces.

"Oh, don't worry about that. There's always bits left over when you modify something." The Doctor wiped his brow with a handkerchief he had pulled from one of his pockets and then said, "Let's go. We don't want to be here in a few minutes."

They ran again, this time to the transporter room where the Doctor ushered them into the pod-like area and hit a button. The spaceship disappeared and they were on Earth again, in the alleyway and next to the blue Police Box.

"So, what is that thing? You said it travelled through time."

"Yes, and space. This is the TARDIS, my spaceship. Did you want to have a look?"

"Sure."

Harry wasn't quite sure what he had been expecting, something like the ship they had just blown up but tiny. Instead what he found was a massive room that held a console thing in the middle, arches coming down around the console with circles cut into the metal of them. Surrounding that and further in were shelves filled with books and all sort of knick-knacks.

Lights shone down from the ceiling high above and there were candelabras glowing happily dotted around the space. It was like a very old-fashioned futuristic spaceship. It was bigger on the inside but on a massive scale. He knew wizards could create objects that were larger on the inside-the tent from the Quidditch World Cup and Hermione's beaded bag were proof of that-but this wasn't magic. This had to be science, an incredibly advanced form of science.

"You like it?" the Doctor inquired from his position next to the console.

"I love it."

"Do you want to see it in action?"

Harry stared at him, "You mean, you want to take me away in your wooden box spaceship?"

"Why not? I can drop you back five seconds ago. Remember, this is a timeship as well as a spaceship."

He thought about it, thought about what he'd be leaving behind to go exploring the stars. It turned out there wasn't really much to leave: his friends had their own lives and if he could be back five seconds ago, they wouldn't miss him. He had seen Earth; he hadn't seen the universe, and he wanted to see it. This had been, by far, the best day ever, and he wanted more days like it. Grinning like a lunatic, he replied with one word.

"Yes."


	7. Stars

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Themed (Family)**

 **Prompt: Starlight**

 **Word count: 709**

 **Beta'd by Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns**

* * *

 _You are the sentinels_

 _Silent and sure_

 _Keeping watch in the night_

 _~Stars, Les Miserables_

The Black family had the tradition of naming their children after the stars and their constellations. Sons of Orion and Walburga Black were called Regulus and Sirius, both named after the stars in the sky. The two boys were good friends in their youth; they were all they had due to their father being Lord Black and their mother focused on drilling etiquette into their heads.

When Sirius was eleven and Regulus was ten, the two of them snuck out to their favourite place, the roof. The roof was where they went to get peace from their family and the pressure that family created. They would stare up at the stars and make up stories about what their stars were doing. Every so often they would imagine that they _were_ the stars instead of simply being named after them.

Tonight they were saying goodbye; Sirius was going to Hogwarts the next day and the brothers would be apart from each other for longer than they had ever been. Even when Regulus joined Sirius at Hogwarts they would probably be in separate houses, Sirius was determined to be in Gryffindor, but Regulus was happy to follow the family and go into Slytherin.

"You reckon the stars are like guardian angels?" Regulus asked Sirius under the starlight.

"You mean, are they watching over us because we share names with them?"

"Yeah."

Sirius shrugged, "I dunno, maybe. Muggles think magic isn't real, who's to say that stars aren't watching us and we just don't know it yet."

"I'm going to talk to your star when you're gone and maybe you'll hear me."

"I'll talk to yours as well," the two brothers grinned at each other, their shoulders touching as they lay back and stared upwards at the night sky.

* * *

Sirius Orion Black laid back on his bed in the Gryffindor dorm room that he shared with three other boys who had been sorted in the same house. It had only been one day since he had seen his brother, but he was already missing Regulus. He didn't know how he was going to manage the three months until the Yule break.

The dorm room was filled with unfamiliar noises, the shuffling and sniffling originating from three other people sounding strange after having his own room all his life. Sighing, Sirius turned on his side and looked out the window by his bedside. The stars were shining bright, surrounding the moon in all its glory. He smiled up at it weakly; was his brother looking at the stars right now?

Locating the Regulus star and sending it a small wave, he whispered, "Hey, Reg."

He was silent for a while, simply laying there with a small smile on his face imagining what his little brother was doing at that moment.

* * *

Regulus Arcturus Black was on the roof of the Black house and looking up at the stars. The Sirius star was shining brightly down upon him. Downstairs his mother and father were arguing over Sirius' sorting, though they might have known that Sirius wanted to go into Gryffindor they didn't expect him to actually get into that house.

He grinned up at the star and waved, "Hey, Siri. You've certainly caused a ruckus here today; they are not happy with you. Congrats on getting into Gryffindor, I know that's where you really wanted to be. I don't quite understand why; it's a bit brash, but I won't hold it against you.

"How's Hogwarts so far? I mean, I know you've only been here for a night but how was it? Is the castle as awesome as people say? Was the food good? Have you made any friends yet? Of course you have, what am I saying? You'll be friends with everyone at Hogwarts, well, except for the Slytherins." Regulus laughed and then threatened, "But you better still be friends with me or else!"

* * *

Both Black brothers smiled up at the night sky and were comforted by the thought of their brother doing the same thing. Though one was in Scotland and the other in England, it was the same starlight that shone down on the both of them.


	8. Ohana

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Themed (Family)**

 **Prompt: Almost giving up**

 **Word count: 951**

 **Beta'd by Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns**

* * *

When he was a young child, Harry James Potter had no one to turn to. He didn't have a shoulder to cry on or an adult to ask for advice. All he had were his Aunt and Uncle who often neglected their duty of care and his bullying cousin. So, he had learned how to take care of himself and when he turned eleven and was introduced to a whole new world, he figured he could deal. That was, until he found out that an evil wizard killed his parents and was still trying to kill him.

The first year he could kind of deal with it, mainly because he didn't fully understand what was going on; he was only eleven at the time. His first year at Hogwarts had actually been kind of fun, adventuring with two friends to find out the secret hidden within the school. It was like the many adventure books he had read after Dudley had thrown them around and tore out their pages in frustration at the book's inability to make cool noises.

Together, he, Ron, and Hermione had solved the mystery and stopped Voldemort from winning. It had been a fun time; there hadn't really been any attempts on his life apart from the broom thing and a professor had saved him.

It was second year where things started going downhill, almost every student attending Hogwarts that year suspected him of releasing a giant basilisk and going after the muggleborns. At least until one of his best friends, Hermione, had been attacked. He had learned a lot about the Wizarding World and fame that year. He had also learned that it wasn't common to be able to talk to snakes, reinforcing his aunt's constant utterances of him being a freak.

Third year, he learned that an escaped convict was his godfather and was thought to be the betrayer of his parents. Sirius Black was an innocent man, convicted without a trial, and thought the worst of for twelve years while Peter Pettigrew lived as a rat in the happy home of the Weasley family.

Fourth year was when things turned insane. Ron turned against him completely until the first task was over. The fact that Harry was even participating in the Triwizard Tournament aggravated the Boy Who Lived to no end. He almost wished that he had never discovered the Wizarding World, the whole thing just made him want to throw in the towel and tell the Wizarding World that he was a _fourteen-year-old boy_ who was still learning magic and had no desire for his life story to be splashed across the front page of a newspaper.

However, none of those years held a candle to his fifth. His fifth year at Hogwarts was a blur of torture from Voldemort and Umbridge while still suffering from nightmares about the graveyard where Voldemort resurrected. Dumbledore was kicked out, and Hagrid expected Harry and his friends to look after his full-blooded giant brother.

Voldemort sent him visions almost every night, leaving him with a migraine afterwards. Umbridge kept giving him detention where she made him write with the quill that used his own blood as ink while Professor McGonagall told him to keep his head down and not attract attention. Except everyone was looking at him because he was the Boy Who Lived and famous because of something his _mother_ did.

The Invisibility cloak got a lot of use during that year, he would sneak up to the Astronomy tower and watch the stars when he knew there wasn't a class. The murtlap essence provided by Hermione soothed his hand where the quill had etched the words, _I must not tell lies_ , as he sat there quietly. Several times, he almost gave in to the idea of simply stepping off the edge, but then he'd think of Hermione and Ron and the rest of the Weasley's; they kept him from abandoning all hope and giving up.

His family that consisted of his friends helped him through his grief when Sirius died. They stood by him as he tried to work out Draco Malfoy's plan and learned about Voldemort's childhood. Ron didn't shun him when Harry started dating Ginny and was, instead, happy for them. They were there when Dumbledore died and accompanied Harry on his quest to find Voldemort's Horcruxes.

There was no way he would have been able to get through the next year without Ron and Hermione. Even with them there, when he wore the Horcrux he so often almost gave up. He wanted to give up, to just forget about the prophecy and let someone else deal with Voldemort, but he couldn't let himself do that and neither could Ron and Hermione.

It devastated Harry when Dobby died saving them from Malfoy Manor; another family member dead in the horrid war Voldemort was forcing upon them. Harry couldn't allow anyone else to die for him, he would get the Horcrux they thought was in Bellatrix Lestrange's Gringotts vault, they would find the remaining Horcruxes, and then Harry _would_ end the war, no matter what.

He gave up; he let Voldemort kill him and hoped that Neville would finish what he couldn't. Except it wasn't the end, instead he was given a choice; to stay and go to the afterlife or to return to Hogwarts and the war. The temptation to join his parents was almost strong enough to make him stay, almost. Until he thought about the family he had back home, in the world of the living. He couldn't just leave them behind like this; he had to go back.

Harry Potter never gave up, he was the Boy Who Lived.


	9. Azkaban, a Home

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Themed (Escape)**

 **Prompt: Home sweet home**

 **Word count: 703**

 **Beta: Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns**

* * *

Sirius Black laughed when the Aurors dragged him away from the street where he had killed the traitor, Peter Pettigrew. He laughed at the absurdity of it all; that they had chosen Peter because no one would suspect him. They themselves hadn't suspected that Peter would be so weak as to follow You Know Who. It was a hysterical laugh that didn't stop, even when the boat was approaching Azkaban prison and the chill of the Dementors kissed his skin. It was no longer a full-blown laugh, but every now and again he would let out a strangled chuckle of dark amusement.

It seemed as if he hadn't been able to escape the madness that the Black family was so famous for. The guards on either side of him exchanged glances; they were afraid of this mad man who had managed to kill twelve muggles and Peter Pettigrew with one spell and was now laughing as he entered one of the most feared places in Wizarding Britain. It seemed that the Black Madness was real.

As he was thrown into the cell that would be his for however long, Sirius smiled at the guards and gave them a gracious bow. Then he turned to face his cell, threw out his arms, and drew in a deep breath. The smell of the ocean filled his nostrils along with the general smell of prison filth and unwashed bodies. Home sweet home.

He let out another chuckle at that, what kind of sane person called Azkaban a sweet home? Then again, he wasn't entirely sane now. He had heard from his father that when a Black goes through a traumatic event, their hold on sanity becomes very tenuous and can so easily be broken. Sirius figured that losing his best friends due to another friend's treachery was traumatic enough; and no matter how much he had tried to escape the family, he was still a Black by name and blood.

A Dementor stopped outside his cell in solitary confinement and he stopped laughing. He didn't like the memories that began surfacing in his mind. He didn't like the cold that was seeping into his bones. He wanted to escape it; he wanted to be warm, so he did the only thing he could think of and transformed into the big black dog that was his Animagus form.

As soon as he became Padfoot the Dementor's effects vanished. The Dementor seemed to be vaguely confused by the sudden change of human to animal but didn't much care; there were plenty of other sources of food. It moved onwards, and Sirius watched it go with relief. He barked a laugh; the Dementors couldn't touch him when he was Padfoot! He had a defence system against the only true guards of the prison he was stuck in. Perhaps Azkaban wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

Twelve years later Sirius caught a glimpse of the newspaper Cornelius Fudge was holding and repressed a snarl. As politely as he could he asked Fudge if he could read the paper and—when the Minister had given it to him—confirmed that, yes, Pettigrew had survived and was living as Wormtail with the Weasley family. Instantly his mind began whirling, he had to escape Azkaban and track down the traitor.

Pettigrew was on the youngest boy's shoulder; the rat would probably accompany the boy to Hogwarts. Harry would be at Hogwarts as well, and Sirius couldn't let anything happen to his godson; he would not allow Pettigrew to finish the job of wiping out the Potter family. It was time to leave the prison.

That night, he transformed into Padfoot and managed to squeeze through the bars of his cell. They should really feed prisoners more, otherwise anyone could get skinny enough to fit through the gap between two bars. Letting out a small, amused bark, Sirius loped down the corridor and slipped through the shadows until he reached the entrance of Azkaban. Not stopping to think about the temperature, he dived into the sea and started swimming towards the mainland. He glanced back at the imposing tower once and gave it a little wave goodbye. Home sweet home, indeed.


	10. Bellatrix's Madness

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Drabble**

 **Prompt: Bellatrix/Lucius**

 **Word count: 900**

 **Beta: Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns & Merry the Great**

* * *

The Black family had a duty to their blood to keep it pure and untainted by muggles or mudbloods. This was achieved through marriage contracts with other Pureblood families. The Black family had three daughters they could offer to the Pureblood families; Narcissa, the youngest, Andromeda, in the middle and Bellatrix, the eldest.

After much discussion and negotiation, it was decided that Narcissa would be gifted to the Malfoy family. Andromeda was promised to the Rosier family, and Bellatrix to the Lestrange family. This was what the Heads had decided; and this was what would happen. As each child graduated Hogwarts, they were married to their betrothed and sent off to continue each family line.

Bellatrix was happy with Rodolphus Lestrange. He didn't require much from her, and she was generally free to do as she wished. Then she went into the Dark Lord's service and everything changed. Voldemort was everything she had ever believed a pureblood to be; he was powerful, focused, driven, charming, and so much more. She wanted to do everything she could for him and his cause, but Rodolphus did not understand her desire and refused to help her, even as he remained a loyal servant to the Dark Lord.

So the eldest Black sister found another way to serve her Lord. Although Andromeda had been purged from their family for running away with a muggleborn and not honouring the marriage contract the Blacks held with the Rosier family, Narcissa was married to Lucius Malfoy. Though they had been married for a few years now, there had been no word of a child on the way, and Bellatrix wondered why.

The next time she went to visit her parents she brought the topic up in conversation and received a most intriguing answer. Her sister was barren and there was no spell that could help her provide a child for her husband. An idea sparked in Bellatrix's mind, Lucius was the Dark Lord's right-hand man; she could pretend to be her sister and provide him a child. The Malfoy family could continue to serve the Dark Lord, even after Lucius had passed.

That very night, before she left the Black family home, Bellatrix snuck up to Narcissa's old room and stole a hairbrush from where it was laying on the dresser. She would have to enlist Severus' help in making the Polyjuice Potion, but she was sure that wouldn't be a hardship. She would just tell him it was for the Dark Lord.

* * *

"Shall we go to bed, Husband?" Lucius smiled up at his wife from lounge he had been reading on and took the hand she was offering him. As he let her lead him towards the bedroom, he wondered what he was going to do about getting an heir for the Malfoy family. He loved his wife dearly and did not wish to have to bring in another woman to act as a carrier.

But that was for another day. Now Narcissa was smiling suggestively at him, and he happily joined her in their rather large bed. Who knew, maybe a miracle would happen and Narcissa would bear them a child without outside help.

* * *

Bellatrix rubbed her swollen stomach and whispered soothing words to the child growing inside of her. Roldolphus didn't suspect that the child was not his, and she would keep it that way until she was in her third trimester. She could do this for the Dark Lord, and she could make sure his right-hand man would have a son to teach and eventually take his place.

The door to her solarium slammed open and her father, Roldolphus, Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa all entered. She stepped backwards, eyes flicking from person to person as Lucius advanced upon her.

"Did you pretend to be your sister one night and as a result of that, carrying the Malfoy heir in your womb?" the aristocratic blond demanded tightly.

"Yes." Bellatrix said proudly before swallowing at the disgusted and disappointed looks sent her way.

Lucius nodded once, turned on his heel and addressed her father, "Lord Black, I request Line Repossession."

Cygnus Black nodded in acceptance and withdrew his wand. Bellatrix backed away in earnest as the three men advance on her, but Rodolphus managed to grab her and hold her still as Lucius and Cygnus performed the spell that would remove the fetus from her womb and place it into Narcissa's. It was a spell not often used; it would only work if Line Theft had been attempted and then only within the first trimester.

Bellatrix screamed as the pain hit her, her insides were twisting, stretching and retracting as her baby was forcibly removed from her body and placed inside Narcissa. An answering scream echoed around the glass walls of the solarium as Narcissa's body was prepared and then forced to accept the fetus from Bellatrix.

Once the spell was complete, the two women collapsed into unconsciousness. Narcissa was carefully carried out by both her husband and father while Rodolphus stayed by Bellatrix's side. Even though she had purposefully gone to another man, she was his wife and he was her husband. They had vowed to stay by each other's side, and he would keep that vow.

* * *

The void where her child should have been never vanished and Bellatrix slowly went insane. She would always protect him, even if he was no longer hers.


	11. Sands of Time

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Short story**

 **Prompt: "If I could turn back time and undo what I've done..."**

 **Word count: 1,055**

 **Beta: Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns**

 **Note: Some of the dialogue between the Marauders, Lily and Severus has been taken from the Order of the Phoenix.**

* * *

 _Sands of time, take me back_

 _Before it all went wrong_

 _When love was but a song_

 _And tomorrow shone as brightly as the sun_

 _Teach me to undo what's done_

 _Sands of time, take me back_

 _~Sands of Time, Twisted_

They had been looked upon strangely when they had arrived at Hogwarts and remained friends while sorted into opposing houses. The rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor was infamous and thought to be impossible to overcome. Somehow, they had managed to do it and their relationship stayed strong until the one mistake he made in fifth year.

Severus Snape was the bat of the dungeons, the greasy git of Hogwarts, the least liked professor and he was content with that. For the past eleven years he had been atoning for his mistake in whatever way he could.

In the beginning, he had hated Lily Evans as she refused to accept his many apologies and decided to become what she thought he already was; now he simply wanted his friend back. He knew that this was the year her son would be attending Hogwarts, and he would have to see the boy's face every day for the next seven years.

As he sat in front of the glowing fire in his quarters at Hogwarts, Severus stared into the glass of brandy he had been holding but not drinking for the past hour. Images from his memories were projected onto the warm liquid as his past with Lily plodded through his mind. He had been staring at the two of them fervently studying for OWLs for a while now, it was the last happy memory he had with his childhood best friend. _It_ had happened the next day.

* * *

 _Severus was sitting under the tree by the Black Lake getting some last-minute studying in before Lily came down to meet him when he heard the laughter he had learned to dread draw closer to his position. He shrunk into himself, hoping beyond hope that maybe they wouldn't see him this time. His hopes were in vain, however, as James Potter spotted him almost instantly and he directed the other Marauder's attentions towards the skinny Slytherin._

" _Hey, look at that Moony, Padfoot. A slimy Slytherin all by his lonesome. Guess we'll have to teach him a lesson."_

 _Severus abandoned his books and stood up, hand hovering over his wand in case he needed to draw it, "You've already tried to teach me several lessons, Potter. They never seem to do you any good so why don't you stop trying?"_

 _The Marauders all laughed while Potter sneered at him, "It's my duty to teach those who are of a lesser class than myself. Maybe if you stopped hanging around those who are above you and stick to your own, slimy, kind I wouldn't have to try so hard."_

" _Lily is my friend!" Severus snarled; he knew that his friendship with the redhead was the main reason Potter and his cronies tormented him but Lily was his only friend and he wasn't going to let anyone tear them apart._

 _A whispered spell later and Severus was hanging upside down in mid-air. "Hey, who wants to see me take off Snivelly's trousers?"_

 _Severus started struggling in earnest when he heard that but unfortunately, Potter was a fairly adept wizard, even in fifth year. He just hoped that Lily wouldn't arrive until after the Marauders were finished with him. Once again, it seemed all his hopes were in vain as Lily Evans came storming into the little group that had formed around Severus' hanging body and started yelling at Potter._

" _Leave him alone!"_

 _Potter's attitude changed immediately and he was the charming, smooth pureblood heir once again, "All right, Evans?"_

" _Leave him alone," Lily repeated. She was looking at James with every sign of great dislike. "What's he done to you?"_

" _Well," Potter pretended to think about that for a few seconds, "it's more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean."_

 _Severus groaned internally, this feud would never be finished. He stopped paying attention to the conversation happening around him and instead tried to think up a plan of escape and retaliation. He was jerked out of his thoughts as he fell down to earth again._

 _Potter sneered down at him,_ " _You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus —"_

" _I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"_

 _Lily blinked and Severus immediately regretted his words. "Fine," she said coolly. "I won't bother in future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you,_ Snivellus _."_

* * *

That was the day that he had lost it all and descended into darkness. How he wished he could have thought through his words before he spoke them but unfortunately that was not a skill he had learned at the tender age of fifteen. He had spent the rest of the year trying to talk to Lily, even camping out in front of the Gryffindor common room one night, but she had never spoken to him again. The loss of her in his life had made him search out darker and darker magics until he had finally agreed to go with Lucius Malfoy and meet Lord Voldemort.

Severus shivered even with the fire burning, those were memories he did not want to relive. Instead he returned to his happier memories of Lily Evans, she was never Potter in his mind, always Evans. His best friend.

"If I could turn back time and undo what I've done…" he murmured softly to the empty room, thinking about all the days he missed out on because of his stupid words said in the heat of the moment. He had always known that the Marauders were trouble but that had to be the most damaging thing they had ever caused him.

He wished he had thought of grabbing a time-turner when he was young but then again, would it have made any difference? A time traveller could not interact with themselves without facing dire consequences. It was the first rule of time travel; you must not be seen.

Lily Evans was forever lost to him, and the Sands of Time would not answer his plea. He could never undo what he had done but perhaps, through her son, he could atone for both his actions and his words.


	12. The Madness of One Can Harm Many

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Themed(Security)**

 **Prompt: Aurors**

 **Word count: 1,702**

 **Beta: Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns**

 **Warning: Contains mentions of torture and character death**

* * *

"Can a person ever be entirely sure of their own safety? Or is it simply wilful naivety that makes us feel certain we are safe? These are some of the questions you should ask as you make out your way through the training to become a security blanket that the general public has learned to rely on. Welcome to Auror training."

Applause rang out as the speaker bowed his head in thanks and stepped back. His place was taken by Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt, "Thank you, Harry. Now, onto business. There are several classes in Auror training and several different teachers. Each teacher…"

Harry Potter tuned out Kingsley's speech as he sat on the chair provided for him on the little stage they used for assemblies within the Auror department. It was a strategic placement, as always. He was there to give support to the minister and therefore, had to be seen alongside or just behind him whenever he and Kingsley were in the same room.

Even though Harry had stopped being an Auror a few years after he had been officially inducted, he was still the Saviour of the Wizarding World and still as famous as he had been during his Hogwarts years. More famous, even, due to the fact that he had succeeded in ridding the world of Voldemort once and for all.

He had spent those few years as an Auror trying to catch the Death Eaters that had escaped after the Battle of Hogwarts but had eventually realised that it would be impossible to catch all of them. Even with the Dark Lord dead, there were still people who believed in his ways and converted others to supporting Voldemort as well. The sects had begun popping up more and more until Harry had had enough and thrown his badge upon Kingsley's desk before storming out.

Surprisingly enough, once he had retired the number of new sects died down. Maybe they felt that with Harry no longer taking an active part in society, they didn't need to try so hard to keep Voldemort alive in spirit and memory. Harry didn't know, but he was just glad they had stopped.

Harry Potter was now quite content with his life. He had married Ginny and had three wonderful children. Yes, every now and again, Kingsley demanded his presence for this or that, and yes, he had to attend the Ministry Balls that were held for the end of the war but all in all he had a pretty good life.

* * *

Harry inhaled deeply as he stepped into the little house he shared with his family, the air was rich with the scent of freshly baked biscuits and he could hear the giggles coming from the kitchen. He grinned at the sight of his beautiful wife and daughter, both of them covered in flour as their masterpieces sat cooling on the bench.

They looked up as he entered the kitchen and Lily ran towards him full pelt and threw herself into his arms, consequently covering him in flour. "Daddy, we made biscuits!"

"I can see that, lovely. Did you have fun?" he settled his daughter on his hip as he made his way to Ginny and gave her a quick kiss in greeting."

Lily giggled, "Yup! Me and Mum had a flour fight! I won."

"Did you now? I don't suppose Daddy's allowed to taste test your creations?"

"Course you can, Daddy! I'll get you one that I made." With that, the young girl slipped down and ran to the tray of biscuits where she proceeded to look them over very seriously as she decided which one to give her father.

Harry slipped an arm around Ginny's waist as she leaned against him, "Good day?"

"Yes, the boys are working on their Hogwarts prep work that Hermione gave them. Lily and I decided to make biscuits for when you came home and I'm sure James and Albus won't mind helping demolish them."

"Here you are, Dad!" Lily held up a singular biscuit and beamed up at him.

He grinned at her and took it. Nibbling a bit off, he pretended he was a biscuit connoisseur while Lily giggled and Ginny looked on fondly. "Hmm, I detect a slight hint of cinnamon. The texture is just right, light and crispy on the outside while the inside is still slightly gooey. I do say that this is one of the best biscuits I have ever tasted!"

The biscuits were plated up and taken into the living room where James and Albus were working on the things Hermione had sent. "Biscuits are ready, boys! And look who it is, Dad's back from work!"

The two boys immediately cheered and abandoned their work as they each hugged their father and grabbed a biscuit. The family of five all settled around the unlit fireplace and caught up with each other. It was a tradition of theirs to do this every time Harry had to go out, either for his freelancing work in the muggle world or his duties as the Saviour.

* * *

That night Harry woke with the feeling that something was wrong. He didn't often get these feelings, generally only when he was dealing with Voldemort or his followers, and he hadn't had one ever since he had retired from the Auror forces. The fact that, right now, that feeling was making itself known was worrying.

Cautiously, he slipped out of bed and picked up his wand from the nightstand. A glance at Ginny told him she was still asleep, and he let her be. He didn't want to wake her up for no reason. He padded silently down the hall, peeking into the children's rooms as he passed them. There was nothing out of place; the house was still, yet the feeling of _wrong_ didn't fade. In fact, it grew stronger as he continued his patrol.

A force hit his back and Harry fell forwards; the _Petrificus Totalus_ making sure that he wouldn't be getting up anytime soon. He felt a foot nudge his side and roll him over. He was greeted with the masked form of his attacker. They were wearing a Death Eater mask, and Harry was instantly filled with fear for his family.

"Hello, _Saviour_ ," the masked attacker mocked. "Do you want to know why I'm here?"

Harry could say nothing so he settled for glaring at what he presumed to be a male, judging by their voice.

"Oh, I forgot, you can't speak. Well, I'll tell you anyway. I'm here to get some retribution for myself and my family. I have been waiting _years_ for this chance and it has finally arrived." The attacker twirled his wand and continued, "See, I was on your side once. I was a good citizen who had nothing to do with the Dark Arts or You-Know-Who. But You-Know-Who had something to do with me and you _didn't stop it!_ "

Harry was now staring in confusion at the clearly deranged person who had broken into his house and petrified him. "Ahem, sorry, I tend to lose control of my emotions when talking about this subject. As I was saying, You-Know-Who sought me out and offered me a deal. Me, being the good citizen that I was, refused even as he tortured me."

"After a week of staying in his dungeons, I managed to escape and I thought that would be the end of it. The war was heating up and it seemed as if all the Dark Lord was interested in was killing you, but no, You-Know-Who wasn't done with me."

"He came into my home, petrified me and then killed my family in front of me while I was helpless to stop him. He was about to kill me too but then he said some of his followers had caught the Boy-Who-Lived and left me there, _staring at the dead bodies of my family!_ And do you know what? If you had just _killed him_ when you were a baby like everyone _said you had, it wouldn't have happened at all_!"

"It's all your fault, _Hero_ , and now I'm going to do to you what he did to me. And I'm all dressed for the occasion. I think it's time you introduced me to your family, don't you?"

Harry let out a muffled yell as he tried his hardest to break the spell, he would not let this madman kill his family in some twisted form of revenge. The attacker chuckled and gave him a little wave before slinking off in the direction of the bedrooms.

Try as he might, Harry could not break the petrification placed on him and soon enough his wife and children were walking placidly into the living room. He could tell from the glazed eyes that they had been placed under the Imperius Curse. He watched helplessly as each one was tied up with an _Incarcerous_ and released from the Imperius as soon as they were tightly bound.

Ginny realised what was going on almost immediately and worked on keeping their children from panicking too much. Harry fell in love with her even more as he saw how she dealt with the situation at hand; she was so strong even when she was tied up and helpless.

He screamed when she did as the sudden _Crucio_ hit her, "There is no comfort to be offered to your children, little missy! They _will die_ , no matter what you try to do to save them."

A barrage of spells began, and Harry watched in horror as all types of Dark spells were directed towards his loving family. He couldn't move, couldn't close his eyes or jump in to save them. When the self-appointed Death Eater had finished their work, they grinned at Harry and swiftly made their escape, disappearing through the wards that should have kept them out.

Harry was left staring at his family until the binds of the petrifying spell had worn off. Slowly, he crawled towards Ginny and gathered her in his arms, rocking back and forth. As he sat there, cradling his dead wife and surrounded by his dead children, one thought echoed through his mind.

 _Where were the Aurors?_


	13. Sirius' Security Blanket

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Themed (Security)**

 **Prompt: Trunk**

 **Word count: 642**

 **Beta: Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns**

* * *

Sirius never unpacked his trunk when he arrived home from Hogwarts. He didn't really like his home and only called it home because he had lived there all his life. His _home_ was the Potter Mansion, and that was where he spent most of his time if he could escape the Black house. It went like this: Sirius would arrive home, the Blacks would have a dinner to celebrate the return of both Sirius and Regulus, the House Elves would wash Sirius' dirty clothes from his trunk, Sirius would make sure his trunk was still fully packed, then Sirius would leave the house and make his way to the Potter's.

He never took his trunk with him, but it was packed in the event that he actually wanted or needed to leave his ancestral home forever. James had some of Sirius' things that the boy could use when he ended up staying over at the Potter's and needed more than what he had arrived with. The young Black was always welcome at the Potter's; and he knew that they were one of the only reasons he could still keep a smile on his face.

At home there were a lot of well- and ill-concealed looks of disappointment and disapproval sent his way. Sirius delighted in shoving his sorting into Gryffindor in his family's faces with his brightly decorated room and wearing the red and gold associated with that house whenever they had been invited to a function. He refused to wear the more 'respectable' green and silver colours of Slytherin or even the subdued blue and grey colours of Ravenclaw.

The Black's had nothing to do with Hufflepuff, who they thought as a load of wishy-washy people that were soft and of no use to society. Sirius quite liked some Hufflepuff's he knew but he didn't mention the house to his family. He knew that that would get him disowned quicker than getting into Gryffindor and being best friends with a Potter would. There was almost nothing a Black hated more than a Hufflepuff being in power; if they couldn't be placed in a house where ambition was important, why would they be placed in a position where ambition was the most important thing?

So, with all this in mind, Sirius never unpacked his trunk and always had it ready in case he should ever need to leave quickly. It was his raft, his security blanket if things went bad; and they were spoiling to go bad at any moment within the current environment of the Wizarding World. The Dark Lord, You-Know-Who was making waves, and more and more Purebloods were gathering behind him.

His own family was leaning towards following him. The man had power; he was the Heir of Slytherin—or so he claimed—and the Blacks had always been loyal to Slytherin. Except Sirius because Sirius Black was the outcast and he would never follow a Slytherin unless it was to play a prank on said Slytherin.

His trunk sat at the end of his bed every night; and every night he would check it over, just in case. He took care of his trunk for he knew that it may well save his life one day. Once he had graduated from Hogwarts, it moved from the Black house to a small, sheltered cave that was fiercely warded against any intrusions that weren't Sirius himself, and there it stayed. It sat there patiently waiting while its owner was in Azkaban.

It would wait until the day Sirius remembered it and went to fetch it. In that trunk were the two-way mirrors he and James had used. He would give one of them to his godson, Harry Potter, and that way Harry would always be secure in the knowledge that his godfather was there for him, day or night, no matter what.


	14. The Death of a Bachelor

**Written for Hogwarts** **School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Class: Duelling**

 **Tasks:** **Write about 'killing someone with kindness'.**

 **Word count: 530**

* * *

Hermione Granger was known for her adventures with Ron Weasley and Harry Potter; together they were the Golden Trio. Hermione was the very driven by equality as evidenced by her creation of S.P.E.W and she was now determined to make sure that the Slytherins who had fought in the war against Voldemort were treated with respect. Ron was working out different strategies they could use to bring the public around while Harry was using his hated fame to talk to the public.

Draco Malfoy was Hermione's personal project. She was determined that he would be able to walk down Diagon Alley without being side-eyed or threatened. At the moment, he wasn't very receptive of her efforts; tending to spend most of his time in Malfoy Manor away from the world, but she had high hopes that she would be able to bring him out of his seclusion.

She was currently waiting at a little restaurant in said Alley where she had invited Draco to meet her five minutes ago. There was a slight chance that he wouldn't come but there was also the chance that, like all the other times, he came later in the hopes that she would leave before he arrived. The door opened and she smiled at Draco as he walked in and he scowled back.

"Granger."

"Hello, Draco. How nice of you to come out of your manor to spend this time with me."

"Whatever, Granger, let's just get your obligatory weekly community service meeting over with. You Gryffindor's are always so controlled by your emotions."

"I've told you before and I'll tell you again, Draco. I'm doing this because I want to, because you deserve more than what everyone has been giving you."

"Honestly, Granger, I don't care. Just leave me alone."

"No. Now let's enjoy a nice cup of tea and a chat and then we can go to Flourish and Blotts to see if they have any good new books."

Draco sighed but acquiesced and Hermione smiled to herself, one step closer.

Draco collapsed on the chaise in front of his fireplace when he exited the Floo. His time with Hermione Granger every week drained all the energy from him and he needed the whole next week to recover. He wasn't used to positive energy being focused towards him. His life when he had been growing up had been full of lessons on how to behave as a pure blood. There were etiquette lessons and magic lessons but there had been no time for affectionate family times, especially not when the Dark Lord has surfaced again.

It felt like Hermione was trying to kill him slowly as she continued to force him to socialise and leave his safe little corner of the world. He liked living in his manor; he experimented on his potions, read his books and was content with himself. He knew who he was, he was a Slytherin who had defied the Heir of Slytherin and sided with the Boy-Who-Lived.

Hermione Granger might think that what she was doing was what was best for him, but she was instead destroying what little he had left with her acts of 'kindness'.


	15. A Seventh Son

**Written for Hogwarts** **School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Class: Charms**

 **Task:** **Write a story in which the number 7 plays an important role.**

 **Word count: 831**

* * *

Salazar Slytherin was the Seventh Son of a Seventh Son in a pure blood family. He grew up learning the importance of the number seven and how, as a Seventh Son, his magic prowess would increase the more he paid tribute to the number. A Seventh Son was a gift and brought prestige to the family that produced such a miracle. A Seventh Son of a Seventh Son was a gift from Lady Magic herself and the family would forever be remembered as one of the Greats.

A Seventh Son of the Seventh Son was Fate whispering to the world that change was coming and the Seventh Son would aid and abet, guide and bring about that change. All Magical Kind knew that when such a son was produced, they should prepare to deal with the outcome, whatever that may be. This Seventh Son would change the Wizarding World completely.

As Salazar was growing up, he made friends with the family next door and spent most of his free time playing with their daughter, Helga. The Slytherin's were hesitant about this companionship as the Hufflepuff's were not in such high a standing as the Slytherins. However, they saw the influence that little Helga had on their son and decided that it was a good influence, so they decided to allow the friendship to continue.

Helga Hufflepuff was a sweet and demure girl who worked hard at everything she put her mind to. She didn't care about the snobbish practices of the higher class and accepted everyone as they were, a quality that she tried to impart on Salazar. And so-with the influence of Helga-Salazar Slytherin became a noble-born pure blood who didn't mind slumming it with the poor on occasion.

When Salazar began to learn magic under the Master that had taken him in, he learned alongside a female. Now, due to his friendship and regard for Helga, he did not mind learning alongside the fairer sex. Instead he was cordial to the other apprentice and they eventually became friends. Rowena Ravenclaw was an incredibly bright person and strove to discover everything she could about the world around her and the magic that ran through her body.

Salazar became her test subject and she, his. While Rowena would draw complicated diagrams and then wave her wand around, Salazar would work over a cauldron and Rowena would test them as Salazar wrote down the effects. This was always done under the supervision of their Master in case an experiment went awry.

When he was sixteen; Salazar was noble and unrefined, clever and foolish. He was a mix of conflicting traits that should never be found in a single being. And yet, there he was, a blend of what he had learned from his family, Helga and Rowena. The three of them had dreams of becoming something more, with Salazar as the unofficial leader due to him being the Seventh Son of the Seventh Son. Then another Seventh Son came along.

Godric Gryffindor was a charming man who exuded confidence and friendliness. He charmed his way into the group of three by aiding Rowena when she had been targeted by some overzealous and drunk males looking for company. They had quickly run away when Godric, big and burly with muscles on muscles, had entered the stable and demanded what they thought they were doing.

The four were discussing their plans for the future a few seasons later when Godric, drunk on mead and the close-knit friendship he was now a part of, declared, "I propose a school!"

"Yes! A school of magic and research!" Rowena exclaimed delightedly.

Helga smiled happily at the image in her mind, "A school for all with magic to learn without needing to worry about being seen."

"An excellent idea," Salazar agreed, "but where will we put this school of magic and research that all who have magic are free to learn and practice?"

Godric subsided, he hadn't thought of that. It was Rowena who said, "There is a place. It is rumoured to be the site of Camelot, where King Arthur ruled with Merlin by his side. It can only be found by those who have need of it and who have Magic by their side."

It was settled, the four of them would journey out to find the site of the great citadel Camelot and transform it into a school. Salazar and Godric, the Seventh Sons, were both blessed by Magic. Godric, the loud, brash and compassionate warrior. Rowena, the quiet, reserved and learned scholar. Helga, the kind, brave and knowledgeable healer. Salazar, the noble, humble and cunning alchemist.

Together they were the Founders Four and together they created a school of magic that would carry on teaching for centuries. The seven original students became hundreds. The seven years of learning imparted wisdom on all who passed through the halls of what once was Camelot. Through them it became Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.


	16. James Potter and the Muggle Clothes

**Written for The Houses Competition & Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Short story**

 **Prompt: Robe**

 **Word count: 1339**

 **.**

 **Subject: Home Economics and Domestic Magic**

 **Task 4:** **Write about a Wizard trying to blend in wearing muggle clothing**

 **Beta: Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns**

* * *

James took a deep breath; he was going on a date with Lily today, and she had suggested going into the muggle world. James, of course, said that it was a brilliant idea and he was all for it. Until he realised that going into the muggle world meant that he had to figure out how the muggles dressed. The muggles seemed to have so many different types of clothing, and he was used to wearing robes; wizards wore robes not the ensemble that the muggles somehow managed to jumble together.

Earlier that day, he and Sirius Black had gone out into Muggle London and tried to find some suitable attire. Seeing as they both came from wizard families, they really didn't know what to look for; but they tried. They had gone into at least two shops and followed other males around to see if they could pick up any hints. In the end, Sirius had just shoved an article of clothing that was the most robe-like and they had left after giving the cashier some paper.

Now James was examining himself in the mirror to make sure that he was presentable. The robe-like thing Sirius had chucked at his face was a simple straight down piece of fabric with a sash around the waist. James didn't quite understand why a sash was needed but there it was, and he had cast a simple colour-change charm to transform it into Potter colours. He was ready.

* * *

Whatever James had expected when he arrived at the meeting place Lily had suggested, it was not Lily taking one look at him and bursting into laughter. He grinned at her—he always liked her laugh—and twirled around to show off how muggle he looked. Shaking her head, Lily had kissed him and then started pushing him into a nearby alley.

"James, what are you wearing?"

"Muggle clothes!" he said proudly, "I couldn't very well wear a robe, now could I?"

"So, you found the next best thing?"

James was astounded, how had she known that was what he had done? It was official, his Lily was a genius. "At least it's muggle, no one will suspect that I'm a wizard and then somehow make me break the Statute. Because I am wearing muggle clothes!"

"Yes. Yes, you are wearing muggle clothes, James. _Female_ muggle clothes."

He blinked, looked down at himself and then back up at her, "Really?"

"Really."

"How can you tell?" Lily rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand before dragging him out of the alley way and towards a nearby clothes shop.

"Come on, you moron wizard. I'm going to teach you all about the complexities of muggle clothing."

* * *

The world of muggle clothing had been a mystery to James for the entirety of his life thus far; and even as he was getting a lesson on everything you needed to know about it, he felt that he would never understand everything. Muggles wore things because they apparently looked good, no matter how uncomfortable they were. He felt as if he were a contortionist with how much he had to squeeze into some of the clothes Lily shoved at him. All while she was nattering on about what was what and who would wear it.

"In the muggle world, men only wear dresses, which is what your 'robes' were, if they're pretending to be a female and are looked down upon for not being the epitome of manliness. Instead, you wear trousers and a shirt, occasionally with suspenders. Suspenders are these," she held up what looked like three pieces of fabric connected together in an improbable way, "and they help keep your trousers from falling down.

"If you need to be dressed up, instead of wearing Family Robes, you wear a suit. Which is this," here she held up a shirt, a mini shirt without sleeves, a long-sleeved shirt, and a pair of trousers. "The layer of shirt, vest and jacket is very fashionable and is definitely what you want to wear if you ever decide to go out to a fancy dinner in the muggle world. You also need a tie, which you'll need to learn how to tie.

"And there is also, of course, dancing gear which you're going to need tonight. Disco is the height of muggle entertainment right now, so I figured we'd have some fun and do some dancing. Pet's been talking about this one place ever since I got home from Hogwarts and apparently, it's the best, so we have to go there. Here, try this one."

James caught the shirt and trouser combination Lily had thrown at him and wandered back inside the changing room in a daze. He had no idea what was going on. Except, maybe, they were going dancing tonight, and he had to look the part which consisted of extremely tight trousers and an even tighter shirt that was covered in a colourful feather pattern.

"How do I look?" he asked uncertainly as he stepped back into the store. Lily looked him over, tutted a few times and then passed him another colourful outfit to try on. He sighed and went back in the small room to somehow eek his way out of tight outfit and squeeze himself into another one.

They repeated this process a few times until Lily finally professed herself to be happy with the outfit she had given him. Painted onto his body was a pair of black trousers and a shimmering leopard print shirt that was in all sorts of different colours as if a rainbow had decided to smear itself all over a piece of fabric. He wanted his makeshift robe with its sash of Potter colours back.

* * *

A few years later—just a couple of weeks before Halloween in 1981—James leapt down the stairs and spun around to show Lily his chosen outfit. Even though they were in hiding, they had decided to go out into the muggle world and attend a few early Halloween parties. Lily's mouth dropped open and then her head fell onto the kitchen counter where it proceeded to bounce up and down a few times.

"James…" she started to say but trailed off as she was once again greeted by the sight of her husband in tight black trousers and a colourful leopard print shirt.

"What?" James didn't understand, what was wrong with his outfit?

"That died last year, no one wears that anymore. It's just… No, no James. I will not be seen in public with you wearing that."

"But you were seen with me wearing this three years ago! You picked this out for me!"

"Yes, _three years_ ago. Muggle fashion _changes_ and _that_ is no longer in fashion! Go find something else."

James went upstairs and came back down in the only other muggle thing he had. Lily's head reacquainted itself with the kitchen countertop as she processed the fact that the 'robe' from three years ago had somehow survived and was still in the Potter household. James shuffled his feet, "This is the only muggle thing I have other than the dancing outfit."

"Fine! Go get changed back into that, it's better than having you walk around all right in a dress. Honestly, wizards and their robes. But tomorrow, we're going shopping. I will not have my husband only owning a dress and an outdated disco outfit."

 _At least it's near Halloween_ , Lily thought, _maybe we'll get away with it tonight_.

Although they got a few strange looks as they walked around, it appeared that most people put James' attire down to the closeness of Halloween. Which was good for James because it meant Lily wouldn't be too angry with him for not keeping an updated muggle wardrobe; and good for Lily as it meant she didn't have to suffer second-hand embarrassment of someone who wouldn't even feel embarrassed in the first place because he was so sure that what he wore was what muggles wore and that he was fitting in perfectly. Honestly.


	17. The Silver Doe

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Themed(Discovery)**

 **Prompt: An Underestimated Individual**

 **Word count: 879**

 **Beta: Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns**

* * *

The forest was never quiet, and it both soothed and agitated Harry as he sat beneath the tree he had chosen for that night's watch. In the tent close by, Hermione was safely sleeping; and he hoped that she would be able to recover from Ron's abrupt departure soon. As he looked around the little campsite they had created, Harry had a sad, small smile on his face. Camping was something that had always interested him but with the Dursleys the way they were; the only experience he had was the Quidditch World Cup that had been interrupted by Death Eaters.

A snap to his left caught his attention and Harry quickly turned his attention towards the sound. A glimmer of silver light shone through the trees and slowly formed into the shape of a large animal. The doe snorted at him and tossed its head as if telling Harry to follow it. Unsure and wary of what dangers lay outside the warded campsite and in the Forest of Dean, Harry got up and padded his way towards the doe with Hermione's wand held out in front of him.

He hated that he had to use her wand but his had broken at Godric's Hollow and there was no way to fix a broken wand so for now, he made do. As he had been thinking about his wand, he had been absentmindedly following the doe as it stayed a few feet in front of him and lead him away from the safety of the campsite and its wards.

Shaking his head and forcing himself to focus on the matter at hand, Harry kept following the doe until it arrived at a small clearing and disappeared into a wisp of smoke. "Hey, wait!" he called out too late as he watched the smoke drift away. Ever curious, Harry ignored the clearing and instead followed the smoke, hoping to discover the source behind the silver doe.

It led him through the trees a little way before it turned back into a doe and trotted up to a dark figure. The figure held up a hand and caressed the doe's nose before the doe once again vanished and the smoke was pulled into the wand that the dark figure held loosely. The figure sighed, and Harry was sure he heard the name Lily being whispered into the cold air.

As the figure turned, Harry tried to stifle a gasp as he saw the familiar visage of his Potions Professor and current Headmaster of Hogwarts, Severus Snape. Snape's head snapped towards where Harry was standing, and Harry cursed inwardly. Just his luck, he had to follow a glowing doe into the forest and end up being captured by the Death Eater who had killed Dumbledore.

"You may as well come out, Potter. I know you're there." Harry gulped but stayed where he was. There was another sigh from Snape—though this one was more exasperated than the previous one—and the headmaster continued, "I promise I won't hurt or capture you, Potter."

"Why would I believe you?"

"I wouldn't deign to delve into your brain again to find out, therefore I cannot answer that question for you. It is, perhaps, a question that you should ask yourself."

Typical Snape. Harry debated it before finally shouting out, "Why did you kill Dumbledore?"

"Reasons that your tiny mind could not possibly comprehend, now will you come here so that I do not have to shout?"

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked as he finally stepped out from behind his tree.

Snape grimaced, "Delivering something that may help you in your task. If you had just stayed in the clearing that my patronus showed you, we would not be having this conversation, and you would not even know I was here."

"But I didn't stay in the clearing. What are you delivering?"

"This," yet another sigh and a flick of his wand later, the sword of Godric Gryffindor came flying through the air to hover in front of Harry. "I believe it may be useful. Do not tell anyone you received it from me, not even your little band of friends."

"Why would you do this? You killed Dumbledore. You're loyal to Vol-"

"Don't say his name!" Snape hissed and Harry stopped. "I do this for my own reasons. Perhaps you will learn of them someday but for now be confident that I am not loyal to the Dark Lord. Now go back to your campsite, it is not safe to be out of wards for too long nowadays, especially for you."

The headmaster gave Harry a curt nod and dissipated into smoke that flew up and out of Harry's sight. Harry stood there for a few more minutes, trying to figure everything out but eventually gave up and wandered back to the campsite. Perhaps they had all underestimated Snape and his devotion to being a slippery spy and no one but Dumbledore could see through the masks and loyalties the Slytherin wore. Harry shrugged to himself and started walking. He would think more on this within the safety of the wards; whether he wanted to help or not, Snape was right that it wasn't wise to be outside of any warding these days.


	18. The Call of Dragons

**Written for the Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Themed (Disappointed vs Proud)**

 **Prompt: Father and Son**

 **Word count: 733**

 **Beta: Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns**

* * *

There was never an option really; if he managed to somehow have this opportunity presented to him, he was going to take it. It was the chance of a lifetime, and he had always been obsessed with the creatures that were on the pamphlet he had received that fateful day. Every morning he would look eagerly towards the skies and hope that an owl would fly into their house, bringing a letter that said he had been accepted. That owl was in front of him now, and he just didn't know if it brought an acceptance or a rejection.

"Go on then, open it!" jostled one of his brothers when they felt he had been staring at the letter for too long without doing anything.

With shaky hands he reached out and unfolded the parchment before beginning to read. The whole breakfast table was holding their breath as his eyes flicked back and forwards, taking in the words written on the parchment. The silence stretched as he carefully folded the parchment up again and stared vaguely at a spot on the old kitchen table, processing.

Eventually it grew to be too much for his family and another of his brothers plucked the letter from his hand and began to read aloud, " _Dear Charlie Weasley, we are pleased to inform you that your application has been accepted and we would like to offer you a place as a trainee Dragon Handler at our Dragon Reserve in Romania. Enclosed with this letter is an international portkey—"_ Fred stopped reading as the noise in the room suddenly rose and Charlie was having the life squeezed out of him by their mother.

"You did it! Oh, my baby boy, I'm so proud of you!"

Arthur patted his wife on the back, "There, there, Molly. We all know that you're proud of him, but perhaps you could let him go? Breathing is an essential part of living, you know."

"Yeah Mum, let him breathe!" the twins chimed in together.

Molly released her iron grip and smiled tearily at her son, arms outstretched and on his shoulders as she looked at him. Charlie drew in breath and smiled back at her, he had been a bit worried about how she would react to him leaving the Burrow to live in Romania, but she just seemed proud of him and happy that he was following his dream.

After examining her son for a bit longer, Molly bustled off to the kitchen to make a celebratory breakfast for the whole family. Everyone else drifted away, some went to watch and be dragged into helping make breakfast while others went to collapse on the floor or couch to catch some more sleep while they could. Arthur beckoned to Charlie and they walked out of the house to stand in the makeshift Quidditch pitch that lay in the backyard.

"This will be good for you, Charlie."

"Yeah, Dad, I think it will."

"You sure this is what you want? You sure you want to go racing off to Romania to look after dragons and leave us all behind?"

Charlie turned his head and looked towards his father, "What's that supposed to mean, Dad?"

"Nothing, just a bit disappointed that the first chance you get you're leaving as fast as you can. We're not so bad, are we? I know me and your mother aren't rich, but we survive and we're happy? We gave you a good childhood, didn't we?"

"Dad, this isn't about that. Not at all. I know we're not rich but I don't care. If there was a Reserve in Otter St Catchpole, I'd train there. But there isn't and the best place to learn is in Romania. Me leaving has got nothing to do with you or Mum or any else. I just have to go away for a bit to study my passion, I'll be back."

"You better be," Arthur's voice was hoarse and he pulled his son in for a hug that was almost as strong as Molly's.

"Breakfast is ready!" Molly called from the window and the two men separated.

"Come on, let's have some breakfast and then we'll figure out what you need to pack." Charlie grinned at his father and they both ran towards the kitchen table that was sure to be groaning under the weight of all the food Molly would have prepared.


	19. Cedric's Dilemma

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Drabble**

 **Prompt: Torn out pages**

 **Word count: 210**

 **Beta: Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns**

* * *

Cedric sighed and rubbed his face vigorously with his hands. It wasn't working! No matter how he tried to phrase it, how many or how little words he used, it didn't work. There was always something off about it. It was too formal, too friendly, too direct, or too vague. He groaned as he looked down at his latest attempt before tearing out the page it was written on to throw it over his shoulder where it joined the rest of its kind. How was he supposed to do this?

He wanted to return the favour Harry Potter had done him when the fourth year had told Cedric about the First Task and the dragons. He didn't know if the young Gryffindor had worked out the egg yet, but he figured he'd try to help. If he could only word this note right!

"Hey Ced!" yelled Hugh, a fellow Hufflepuff, from the common room below. "Kitchen raid, let's go!"

Cedric glanced at his notebook—it looked very forlorn now with half its pages missing—he wasn't getting anywhere and some food might help get his brain into gear. He stood up and went to join Hugh, leaving the torn-out pages where they lay. Maybe he could just tell Harry personally?


	20. Red

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Themed (Love and/or Love Lost)**

 **Prompt: Red Lipstick**

 **Word count: 513**

 **Beta: Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns**

 **Warnings: Blatant allusions to abuse.**

* * *

She never liked it, never found a need for it, yet he still insisted. She had acquiesced, and he was happy. All her friends had noticed it, but they had assumed she was becoming more feminine and congratulated her on discovering her femininity. She didn't really understand why they thought it was something to be congratulated about—she had never had any desire to appear more feminine; instead, she preferred what was comfortable over what was fashionable.

She had been wearing it for quite a while now, and it made her feel very strange. She was not allowed to leave the house without it, and he made sure of that with a ward keyed into her signature and the colour red. Red had once been a rather nice colour to her, but now it was the worst colour. Red signified a prison. Red was the cell door that kept her trapped, and she could not break out.

She was not herself when she wore it, yet he seemed to think that she was at her best when she wore it. When they were in school, there had been no expectations except that of to love and be loved in return. Now, it seemed as though he could only love her when she wore the right shade of red on her lips. She hated it, but she loved him and it was a small enough concession for the one she loved.

Looking at herself in the mirror, she couldn't even recognise the face that looked back at her. Gone were her comfortable clothes and practical hairstyle. She was the epitome of beauty, and it was wrong. She had never been beautiful in her life—except perhaps during the Yule Ball—her parents had always told her that brains won out over beauty. He didn't seem to believe that, and now she wasn't sure who was right.

Four years after graduating from school, she wanted to visit a new exhibition in a magical museum that showed the history of creatures. He didn't think much of that plan and instead told her that they would be attending a ball at the Ministry of Magic. That night, she dressed in the red dress he had chosen for her and applied the red lipstick that was her jailor. The ball was for the fourth year of peace after the Second Wizarding War; and she had no desire to drag those memories back into the light.

She had a plan; she would go to the ball then slip away after a few minutes. She had packed a small purse with an extension charm with a change of clothes and some extra money. She would be seeing the exhibition, and she would see the advances in wizard/creature relations. She would have a night of freedom away from the dreaded colour red. There would be no red dress after she had left the ball. There would _definitely_ be no red lipstick. She would be herself again—even if it was for only one night, Hermione Granger would return to the world.


	21. The Small Things

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Bonus-Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them**

 **Prompt: "You can't miss something you've never had."**

 **Word count: 1277**

 **Beta: Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns**

* * *

Newt Scamander was a magizoologist—that was what he was most known for by people interested in creatures in the Wizarding World. He loved the creatures he sought out and learned all he could about them, dedicating his life to the study of magical creatures and teaching the world. He was determined that they would no longer be feared because they were misunderstood—Thestrals were not vicious and yet they were feared due to people only being able to see them after viewing death.

While he loved his work and wouldn't give it up for the world, there were times when he thought that maybe it was too much, too big. He saw the little things that others did; the differences they made in the world with their actions and all he had done was learn of creatures and spread that knowledge. He loved it but would it make a difference? A true difference?

Newt sighed and set down his cup of tea, it had grown cold as he sat in thought within his enlarged suitcase. The niffler that was burrowed in a pile of shiny objects poked its head out to see if what Newt had put down would be a good addition to its collection. It sniffed and examined the cup from afar before burrowing back into the pile—evidently not thinking much of the cup. Newt smiled at the creature's actions; that was why he studied them, so that he could observe something as pure as nature and take comfort in their never-changing ways.

"Well," Newt said, clapping his hands together, "back to work, I suppose."

Taking out his small notebook with accompanying self-inking quill, he made his way out to the garden and his friends. That was what they were; his friends. He didn't really like human company; it was loud and confusing and full of unseen pitfalls that were almost always unavoidable. Once his days at Hogwarts had finished and he had departed on his journey, he had discovered that he rather liked the solitude and quiet that came with nature.

His suitcase was his home, and it was the home of his friends. He had brought in the little hut that had been his while he lived on his mother's hippogriff farm and duplicated the land that surrounded it. Now, the suitcase was full of creatures that had agreed to go with him and allow him to tell their stories to the world. No longer was it just bare land that held only grass, trees and bushes. It was a paradise for all the creatures that joined him and he worked hard to make sure each creature had a habitat that suited them.

He was rather proud of that; it was a spell of his own creation and he had not yet taught anyone else. It allowed him to create a habitat suited to the creature he performed the spell on. As such, there were areas in his suitcase where the air was cold and filled with snow while next to it would be a desert with a conjured sun beating down. The magic was incredibly complex, and he had spent years poring over rune books, spell creation guides, even divination books about foretelling the weather.

Newt hummed as he walked along the winding path that made its way through his suitcase and took notes on the various creatures that he happened upon. The land was free in his suitcase, any creature could go anywhere—so long as they refrained from harming other creatures—and he sometimes had to use a point me spell to help him locate a specific creature when he needed to see them.

A rapping sound echoed down through the main house and out across the fields. Newt looked up from his notebook and sighed before pocketing it, saying goodbye to the Sphinx he had been talking to and making his way to the house and out from his suitcase. Anna was waiting for him and he grinned at her before cradling his arm after she saw fit to hit him with considerable force.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"That was for forgetting about the gala you were going to take me to! Whenever you go into your suitcase, it's like you forget all about the real world and all that you care about is that case and the creatures you keep in it. What is so important about them, Newt? How are they more important than me? Huh?

"I have waited and waited for you to wake up and realise that there are more important things to think about than what some creature does and why. What about me, Newt? What about the life I thought we could build together? All you want to do is play around in the life that you already have and there is no room for other people in that life! Only creatures! We are done, Newt Scamander."

"Anna! I-I-I I'm sorry, I just… There is so much to learn!"

"You're not a Ravenclaw, Newt. You're a Hufflepuff, you're supposed to care about people, not books and learning. You're supposed to care about _me_." Anna was crying now and Newt went to hug her—comfort her—but she shrugged him off, "All I ever wanted from you was your love but I see now that you direct all your love to the creatures that fascinate you so.

"I would say that I'll miss you but you can't miss something you've never had. And I never had you, Newt, no matter how much I wanted to or how much you wanted to give me what I wanted. Goodbye, Newt, I wish you all the happiness in your pursuits."

Anna turned and walked away, leaving Newt standing and staring after her. He was sad to see her go but he could understand her reasons, he was a terrible romantic partner. Anna had been right when she said that Newt directed all his love to the creatures that he cared for, he didn't know how to do anything else. That was the way his mother had been, his brother directed his love towards his career as an Auror. All Scamanders had trouble splitting their attention from their passion.

* * *

Several years later, Newt Scamander found himself on American soil and chasing down a niffler with a muggle—or no-mag as they were called in America. He found himself working with an Auror, her sister and the muggle to relocate all the creatures that had escaped from his suitcase when it had managed to make its way into the muggle's hands.

After the whole adventure was over and the obliviating rain had started pouring down, Newt realised that he had forged a firm relationship with the Auror—Porpentina 'Tina' Goldstein. He realised that she had somehow managed to worm herself into the space in his heart that was previously reserved for his creature family.

Now, it seemed as though Tina had decided to take up permanent lodgings, and Newt found himself smiling. Perhaps he could love something other than the creatures he studied, and perhaps he could break the Scamander curse and divide his attention equally. That seemed to be an achievement far worthier than the book he was planning to write about all the creatures he had discovered on his journeys and where to find them all.

It may have been a small achievement to others in the world, but it was the most important thing he had ever achieved in his life. He doubted he would be able to achieve anything greater than finding a person he could love and actually loving them.


	22. Snitch and Sun (not a good combination)

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Drabble**

 **Prompt: Sunglasses**

 **Word count: 635**

 **Beta: Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns**

* * *

The light blinded him, and he quickly tried to both block the sun and keep track of the small golden ball that had been in front of him just moments before. His efforts were in vain however, and the snitch had vanished. Harry groaned and started looking for the snitch all over again. It was no use—the sunlight reflected off his glasses and he couldn't make out much detail of things far away, especially not a little golden ball. Sighing in defeat, Harry guided his broomstick to the ground where Hermione and Ron were waiting for him.

Hermione rose her wand and said the incantation that would bring the snitch back, inert once more. They all squinted into the sky to try and find the snitch as it flew back and managed to see it just before it almost smacked Hermione in the face, she was only saved by the arm she held over her eyes for shade.

"Ugh, I wish I'd thought to bring some sunglasses!" exclaimed Hermione as she recovered from a small ball hurtling into her hand.

Ron was confused, "What are sunglasses?"

"They're glasses with polarised lenses that help block out the sun's rays. They make it easier to see in bright sunlight and they also protect your eyes from harmful effects of the sun."

"Huh," was Ron's eloquent response.

Harry grinned at them. "Come on, let's go inside. We don't have sunglasses and I can't see a thing with the light blinding me every few seconds. I guess Oliver will just have to deal with a rusty me until I can practice and not get blinded."

They went inside, Ron eagerly thinking of the food his mother would be making soon, Harry thinking over tactics for playing Quidditch on sunny days and Hermione wondering if she could slip away to muggle London and get a pair of sunglasses. She didn't know why she hadn't thought of packing them when she had left for the Burrow, but she hadn't and she regretted that now.

* * *

It was the first practice of the year and, of course, the sun was beating down on the team and Harry couldn't see a thing. He sighed as he mounted his broom, he would just have to do his best to squint through the light and look for the golden ball that was sure to be reflecting the sun's rays. Unfortunately, squinting through light was extremely difficult when you had mini reflectors on your face, and Harry couldn't find the snitch at all.

He explained the situation with Oliver and Oliver just offered, "They put up a sun shield on the match day but not on practice days, just do what you can."

That didn't help Harry at all. If he was only going to be able to see the snitch on match days, how was he supposed to practice catching the golden ball beforehand? Looking around the pitch in an effort to find a starting point to resume looking for the snitch he saw Hermione waving at him from the stands.

Confused, he made his way over there and she immediately stole the glasses from his face, "Hey!"

"I'll give them back, don't worry," Hermione fiddled around and then presented the glasses back to him.

When he put them on again, the world darkened and he could see without squinting. "Woah, what did you do?"

Hermione huffed. "I went to muggle London and got some clip-on sunglasses. They attach to your glasses so you don't have to wear two pairs of glasses at the same time. You can also get sunglasses that have your prescription so you don't have to worry about losing the attachable ones. Now go out there and find the snitch."

Harry grinned and hugged Hermione tightly. "Thanks Hermione. You're the best!"


	23. Memory

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Themed (a character from your house(Hufflepuff))**

 **Prompt: Toy broom**

 **Word count: 781**

 **Beta: Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns**

* * *

Her niece was laughing happily as she zoomed about on the little toy broom Amelia had brought her from Susan's old home. Her brothers were dead. They had been killed by Death Eaters a few years ago, and she had been granted custody of Susan. After everything that had happened, the war and Voldemort, Amelia would never abandon her family and she would make sure Susan was always happy and protected.

She wondered how Harry Potter was doing, everyone in the Wizarding World hailed him as their saviour but Amelia simply wondered how the young boy was doing. She wondered if he was being looked after, Albus Dumbledore said that he was in the best place possible but Amelia still wondered. Susan ran up to her and she knelt down to give her niece a hug.

"Did you see me, Auntie? Did you see me fly?" the young girl enthused.

"I did, you were very good. You must be a natural."

"Yep!"

"Come on," Amelia said, standing up and holding out her hand for the five-year-old to take.

"Let's go get some lunch, hey?"

The broom was clutched tightly as the two walked inside, it was the one thing left from Susan's life with her parents. Everything else had been destroyed by the Death Eaters that had tortured and killed her mother and father. Amelia didn't try to remove the broom from her niece's possession, Merlin knew she wouldn't want to part from something that reminded her of happy times with her family.

Amelia had her family album, photos taken throughout their lives as young witch and wizards. She had pictures from when they were just a few weeks old to when they were into their twenties. That was when their parents had died and a few years after that, both her brothers had also died. Occasionally Amelia would let Susan peruse the pictures and see the faces of her father and uncle, with the odd photo of her mother smiling and having fun with her father.

They were in the kitchen now and Amelia set to making sandwiches for the both of them. Susan hugged her broom and asked quietly, "May I see the pictures after lunch, please?"

"Of course, sweetie," Amelia smiled softly, she could do with seeing the happiness of her brothers again. The sandwiches were gobbled up at super speed once Susan knew she would be able to see the photos and Amelia humoured her, eating her sandwich at equal speed.

The plate was presented proudly once it had been cleared of all but crumbs and was swiftly taken to the sink and set to clean itself as Amelia pulled the photo album from its place on the bookshelf. Together, they sat down on the couch and began the process of flicking through the many photos.

There were her brothers in their Ravenclaw blue on a Hogsmeade weekend where they had met up with the rest of the Bones family. There was Amelia herself in Hufflepuff yellow, testing the robes still fit her before her second year. There was Fabian and Claire—Susan's parents—smiling happily and wandering down a snowy street.

Graduation day was flicked past after gazing at all the happy faces in all the different House colours, with Amelia surrounded by a sea of yellow and her two brothers who had graduated a few years before her. Susan's tiny face appeared and they were into the many pictures of Fabian, Claire and Susan. They had been so happy together and Amelia missed her family immensely, she was just glad Susan had survived.

Susan snuggled into her little broom as the picture of her first time on it came up. She had been terribly wobbly at first and only managed to gather enough courage to continue due to Fabian's help and encouragement. Amelia hugged her tighter and they continued flipping through until they reached the day at the park that was followed a few days later by the brutal murder of Fabian, Claire and Edgar.

With a sigh, Amelia closed the album and said, "You'll see them again. They're here right now, watching over us, we just haven't been able to see them."

"You really think so?"

"I really do. I think your father would be very proud of how good you are at riding a broom, don't you think so?"

Susan nodded in an affirmative. "I'm going to get even better, I want them to always be proud of me!"

"And they will, no matter what you do." Amelia kissed her niece on the forehead and they continued to sit there, thinking back on their family and content with the family they had now.


	24. Lost and Found

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Themed (a character from your house(Hufflepuff))**

 **Prompt: Lost within Hogwarts**

 **Word count: 640**

 **Beta: Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns**

* * *

Professor Sprout was always known as one of the most cheerful teachers at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was a known fact that her door and arms were always open to any student from any House if they needed her. She made it a part of her routine to patrol the corridors of Hogwarts during the first few days of a new school year in case any of the first years managed to get lost.

There were always a few of them that couldn't figure out the moving stairs, the doors that pretended to be walls or the walls that pretended to be doors. It wasn't all muggle-born students either; she had found quite a few purebloods that were completely lost within the walls of Hogwarts. She found it rather amusing how they tried to maintain their cool façade while being overwhelmed with relief that they wouldn't be lost in the corridors of Hogwarts for the rest of eternity.

It was nearing that time again; the sorting ceremony and welcome feast were fast descending upon them. All of the Professors were frantically sorting out their class schedule for the coming year. Thirty new students should be arriving in a few days, thirty students who all had the same chance to get lost within Hogwarts and be found by the cheerful Head of Hufflepuff House.

Even as a prefect of Hufflepuff during her school years, Pomona had always patrolled the corridors for lost students. She felt that it was her duty to help the young wizards and witches that came to learn magic also learn how to navigate the confusing layout of Hogwarts Castle. She and her fellow Hufflepuff prefect had tried to convince the prefects of Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Slytherin to do the same but they had failed in creating an actual schedule for patrolling purely to find lost students.

So, she and Miles had done it by themselves and had inevitably made friends with those they had directed back onto the right path. It had been a fantastic way to make more friends and learn more about those they helped. Although friendship was now off the table due to Pomona being a professor and the impossibility of a student and professor being true friends—she still enjoyed learning about those she helped.

They often sought her out a few days after their rescue and she would welcome them with a comforting drink and some chocolate. They would then talk about how the young student was finding the castle and classes so far, how they were dealing with being away from their parents for such an elongated amount of time. When the student left, she made sure to let them know that they were welcome back at any time and gave them a map of Hogwarts in case they should get lost again.

She had gotten the idea from the Marauders and their rumoured map of the corridors that showed where everyone was in the castle. Her version only showed the holders location and the surrounding rooms and halls. It was an effective tool for finding ways back to people and away from the deserted side passages that lost children often found themselves in.

Now she would have thirty new children to aid and get to know. It was the best part of her year; she loved getting to know the students they taught more personally. It helped her with knowing which students needed more personalised attention and which students would need to learn a subject differently than the others. She encouraged the other professors to do it with their students but just like with the prefects when she had been young; none of them had the inclination or time to do so. Still, at least Pomona knew she would always be there for those lost within Hogwarts.


	25. It Didn't Matter

**Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)**

 **Word count: 509**

* * *

It didn't matter how much power he actually had, or how many spells he actually knew. So long as he knew one spell, above all others, no one was going to think him a fraud. They would continue to sigh over him—their jealous partners off to the side—and keep awarding him 'Most Dazzling Smile' as he continued to smile his way through life. Others may have to work to feed themselves and any dependants, and others still may have dreams they worked their whole lives to achieve, he was different.

Gilderoy Lockhart had been blessed with dashingly good looks and had learned how to charm himself out of any situation that was going awry. He learned how to gain the friendship of others more famous than he and used their fame to increase his own. He was a storyteller and he told marvellous tales full of adventure after completely obliviating the very same tale from the mind of the one who had gone through the experience. There was no chance that they would remember and even if they did, they probably wouldn't care—living in hovels and drowning in firewhisky seemed to be all they wished to achieve in life.

Not him. No, Gilderoy Lockhart had had a taste of living in hovels and being surrounded by strong liquor and he had sworn to never again live like that. He had built up connections when he had attended Hogwarts, had ordered the house elves to clean and mend his clothes to the highest standard and had stumbled across his ticket to glory. The obliviate spell—if used by capable hands—was able to erase, modify and replace any memory of any person so long as that person did not have strong mental shields. Once he had discovered this fact, the whole world opened up for Gilderoy and he worked hard to become a master of the spell.

He was understandably proud of this accomplishment; it was, after all, the only accomplishment he could lay claim to that was his own. Of course, no one knew that he was so well versed in the use of the spell apart from those he used it on and they always forgot.

It didn't matter how much power he actually had—he was far less powerful than others believed. Nor did it matter how many spells he actually knew—he most certainly didn't know any spells to deal with a banshee off the top of his head. So long as he knew one spell, no one was going to think anything of him except that which he wanted them to think.

Yes, Gilderoy Lockhart would forever be the dashing and adventurous author that never backed down from a challenge. He would never fail and he would never fall. He would continue to rise in fame and status; why, he'd even been invited to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts! He would certainly accept that post, especially as Harry Potter—The Boy Who Lived—was currently attending that very school!


	26. The Boggart

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Drabble**

 **Prompt: Boggart**

 **Word count: 525**

 **Beta: Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns**

* * *

If there was ever a strange and confusing creature in the world of the strange and confusing, that creature would be a boggart with its lurking in shadows and small spaces, waiting for a victim to come by that it could scare before moving on. No witch or wizard had ever quite figured out what a boggart's purpose or drive was, not even the great Newt Scamander—notable magizoologist. It wasn't possible to ask a boggart what it wanted as all it did was delve into your mind and steal the image of that which you feared the most.

For some, that was a creature that had access to their minds, for others it might be a dark secret they kept hidden away. It was rumoured that for Harry Potter—Vanquisher of Voldemort—it was fear itself. There was only way to deal with a boggart and that was to turn your fear into something humorous. A difficult task for most people and an even harder one when your greatest fear is bearing down upon you. It was either that or run away screaming and hoping the boggart doesn't decide to follow you as you run.

Boggarts are not necessarily harmful, unless seeing your worst fear come to life right before your eyes is going to cause physical trauma. The boggart causes harm psychologically and those affected can remain so for the rest of their lives. It also means that if you are confronted with a boggart during a time when enemies are near—those enemies are made aware of what you fear the most. As such, boggarts are often used in interrogations and torture.

This use of boggarts was first introduced by Mafalda Higgens—a hedgewitch who had minimal power and wished to leave her mark on the Wizarding World. She had not been planning on using a boggart at first but had encountered one when walking home one day and captured it after realising the potential of the creature. A boggart helped many of Gellert Grindelwald's followers confess to their crimes and even reveal what they knew about the Dark Lord's plans.

The practice has since been disbanded, along with the use of dementors as guards of Azkaban prison. These changes were made by the Head of Creature Relations department—Hermione Weasley—accompanying her ongoing campaign of equal rights for all creatures from house elves to centaurs.

Boggarts are now on the protected species list, and hunters are fined a total of one hundred galleons per boggart they have in their possession. Consequently, a black market for boggarts has started forming; and many organisations are willing to pay a considerable amount to ensure a safe delivery of such an effective interrogation tool.

Aurors and the special taskforce of Creature Relations field agents are always on the lookout for shady dealings of boggarts and other creatures. It is unknown how boggarts breed, and is therefore unknown how wizard-kind can ensure their continued existence. At the current moment in time—there is an estimated seventy boggarts in existence.

Following in my brother's footsteps, I intend on capturing their existence in photos.

 _Dennis Creevey, Daily Prophet_


	27. John Markle and the Strange Rat

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Themed (Pet)**

 **Prompt: Platform 9 and three quarters**

 **Word count: 685**

 **Beta: Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns**

* * *

In the mad rush of getting to Platform 9 ¾ and then getting onto the Hogwarts Express without missing the train and still having time for goodbyes, it was easy for things to get misplaced or forgotten about. In the crush of so many witches and wizards that wanted to send their baby's off with a smile and a hug, it was easy for things to disappear into the crowd and be abandoned. The platform was always full of noise and the screeching of disgruntled owls that were forced to be awake during the day.

Everyone knew to watch their step when on the platform; you never knew when a toad might have gotten away from its owner and gone for a stroll, after all. The cats would have great fun climbing around the train and winding through the many human legs surrounding them. Occasionally a cat would try and grab a toad, but the platform attendants were always watching out for the hungry cats and herded them back towards their carer.

One such attendant—John Markle—rose an eyebrow when he spotted a rat scurrying across the platform and avoiding the many dangers that presented themselves. It wasn't often he saw a creature other than an owl, cat or toad during the time the Hogwarts Express was stopped at his platform. Students weren't allowed any other animal and parents normally didn't bring their own animals with them while they were saying goodbye to their children.

John watched as the rat headed directly towards the barrier between Platform 9 ¾ and Kings Cross Station only to squeal as he was scooped up by a woman with flaming red hair who immediately started scolding the rat. "Scabbers! There you are! Honestly, what do you think you're doing? Running away like this, Ron is going to have a fit, and the train's about to leave!"

The woman hurried off, keeping a firm grip on the rat as it desperately tried to wriggle out and run away again. John watched on, amused if not a little confused. Why was a rat going to Hogwarts with a student? He assumed that was what was happening, that Ron was a student who had lost his rat that he shouldn't have in the first place. At least, not on the Hogwarts Express that was going to Hogwarts where students were only allowed an owl, cat or toad. There were no rats on that list and any animals that were not the three allowed were sent back to the student's home.

So why bother bringing a rat? Why hurry to give it back to whoever this Ron person was when it would just be sent back to his mother as soon as he arrived at Hogwarts? John shook his head in wonder at the silliness of some people. It was pointless trying to understand why they did what they did but that didn't stop him from trying. This was one of the most interesting times to be on shift at Platform 9 ¾, what with all the people rushing about and providing him with great entertainment.

A squeal caught John's attention and he looked over just in time to see the rat—Scabbers—fly backwards through the air into the very unimpressed hands of the woman who had tracked him down before. No, John most definitely didn't understand the people that came to the platform every year, but they were certainly very interesting to watch. He wondered if he'd see the rat again next year, or if the family would have realised by then that rats weren't allowed.

He shrugged; it wasn't his problem. Just then, he spotted a cat on the prowl who was definitely stalking a toad. _Time to get back to work then_ , he thought as he pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning on and hurried over to the hungry cat. He had never lost a toad in all his years of service in the railway; there was no way he was losing one today, even if he was still confused about the whole rat business.


	28. First Year Problems

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Drabble**

 **Prompt: Anxiety**

 **Word count: 247**

 **Beta: Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns**

* * *

Poppy Pomfrey was known for her fierce protectiveness of those under her care, especially when they were in the Hospital Wing. The first few weeks of school term were the busiest for her as that was when all the First Years found themselves in her office for some calming draughts, soothing hot chocolate and comforting words. Every student was different, and she did her best to soothe their worries.

Some—notably Purebloods that had familial expectations—were anxious about the House they had been sorted into. They worried what their family would think, if they would wind up being the same as their parents, if other students might be reporting their progress to those still at home. There were other students who just missed their home and family and didn't know if they would be able to survive the following term until the holidays arrived. Muggle-borns worried about living and studying in a brand new world that—until recently—had only existed in fantasy.

After the first week, the flow of anxious First Years tapered off, and the Infirmary was quiet once more. Poppy usually felt strangely bereft at this point. After having student after student come to see her every day, the absence of those students was not an altogether pleasant feeling. Still, there was always next year's batch of fearful new students to both look forward to and calm.

Besides, Quidditch season would start soon enough, and that generally meant she would get some company.


	29. Friendly Duels

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Short**

 **Prompt: Duelling**

 **Word count: 1,397**

 **Beta: Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns**

* * *

Their rivalry was the stuff of legends; they were so entwined by their animosity that they could never be separated. Like Merlin and Morgana, Tesla and Edison, Shaggy and Scooby; one did not exist without the other. They hated each other yet they loved the hate and could not imagine life without it. This was the reason they did not allow the other to die—even when the opportunity presented itself.

Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter had not stopped their fervent duelling—verbal or otherwise—since the war had ended. They did not know how, nor did they particularly want to. Their friends tried to urge them to forgive one another; one pair for prestige and the other for a new beginning. What the friends did not know however, is that the two had already forgiven each other and were both depending on the normalcy the other represented with their duels.

It had started on their first day of school, before that in some people's eyes. Draco had been a young boy who had been raised in a certain way, and Harry had also been a young boy but had been raised differently. These two ways of life were different and conflicted with the other. Hence, those who knew the ways, conflicted with those who knew another way.

If, at some point, Draco had been asked if he liked Harry Potter, he would have said yes. He did like Harry Potter; he wanted to be Harry Potter's friend and was certain that his father would manage to bring Harry Potter to him and they would be friends. That didn't happen, however, and Draco was forced to try and make friends with Harry Potter by himself. He had never had to make a friend before—his father chose all of his friends for him.

Harry would have quite easily become friends with Draco Malfoy, if not for the fact that the boy had managed to insult the two people that showed Harry kindness first in this new world. Hagrid—the half-giant that had made him a birthday cake and introduced Harry to magic—was insulted and called an oaf. Ron Weasley—the boy who sat with Harry on the train and tried to make his rat yellow—was insulted for his name and financial situation.

As Harry was used to bullies due to his cousin Dudley, he did not particularly want to be friends with someone who was quite clearly a bully, or well on their way to becoming one. And so their rivalry continued and it never stopped. As Harry went about his business in the Ministry of Magic as an Auror and Draco attended Wizengamot meetings, they would pass each other in the halls and always manage to insult the other, even if they only saw each other for a second.

It annoyed the other employees at the Ministry, but the one time they had tried to stop it by placing wards that stopped the two communicating, the two men had started to break down. As they were both rather important members of the Ministry, this caused some alarm, and the Minister passed a local decree that no one should try and stop Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter from fighting unless wands were raised and harmful spells cast.

The week after this disastrous attempt at stopping the two from fighting saw an increase to that fighting and spats often occurred. No wands were brought out, nor were any spells cast, so the Ministry employees let them continue and instead quickly hurried off to where they were meant to be.

* * *

"Honestly Harry, you are not setting a good example! People look to you for guidance and all they see is you continuing your school feud with Malfoy instead of the acceptance that you should show towards him. You saved his life!"

"Yeah, and?" Harry asked Hermione, tired of the conversation already.

"And?" the bushy-haired witch shrieked. "And you should know by now that Malfoy's a good person and not about to try and get revenge on you for Voldemort!"

"I do know that! Just because I fight with him, doesn't mean that I think he's going to go all Death Eater on me!"

"Then why are you still fighting with him?"

Harry shrugged. "I can?"

"Ugh!" Hermione stomped her foot and swept out of the room, annoyed at Harry's lack of care about his continued verbal spars with Malfoy. Harry just grinned to himself, another victory for him.

* * *

"Drakey, don't you think you should stop arguing with Potter and start treating him as a saviour like everyone else?"

Draco glared at Pansy. "No."

"But Draco," Pansy draped herself over her friend as she whined, "if you don't play nice with Potter, you'll never amount to anything. No one wants to promote the rival of Harry Potter."

"Does it look like I care, Pans?"

She pouted and turned to look at their other friend in the room. "Blaise, help me make Draco see the light?"

"Since when have we wanted to see the light?" Blaise asked, "We were raised in darkness and taught to ignore the light when it came calling."

"That was ages ago! The war is over, and we'd be in high standing if it wasn't for stubborn Draco Malfoy here."

"If it bothers you that much, Pansy, why don't you split all ties with me and go find a nice, light husband?"

Blaise laughed from his position where he was leaning against the wall, "You know she'll never leave, Draco. She's decided we belong to her and there's nothing we can do about it."

"Exactly." Pansy grinned.

Draco groaned; he needed to find Potter and yell at him for allowing this sort of situation to occur. Even if it wasn't actually Potter's fault and the Vanquisher of Voldemort couldn't actually be blamed for his friends' antics, Draco was going to blame him.

* * *

"Oi, Potter!"

Harry turned around and grinned when he saw Malfoy, just the Slytherin he wanted to see. "Yeah, Malfoy?"

"Why is it that my friends have suddenly decided they love you?"

"Well, I wouldn't know. Perhaps the same reason that my friends have decided they love _you_?"

Draco snarled and pulled out his wand, the annoyance at his friends' persistence boiling up inside of him too much for him to handle. Harry grinned at the sight and pulled out his own wand, quickly casting a protective barrier around the two of them so no well-meaning Ministry employees could stop their duel.

" _Reducto_!" Draco yelled.

" _Expulsio_!" Harry replied.

Each of them ducked out of the way of incoming spells and continued to throw and dodge as they let out their frustrations at the world on each other. The air inside the barrier lit up with multiple spell lights and the crowd that had gathered were amazed and frightened at the wide range of spells known by the two combatants.

Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic, stood to the side and groaned, covering his face with his palms. This was not what he wanted to deal with today; he could deal with the verbal spats Malfoy and Potter had but a full on duel was not allowed and most certainly not allowed in the Ministry! Unfortunately, with the rate the spells were flying around, he wouldn't be able to bring down the barrier that separated the Slytherin and Gryffindor from the rest of the world without those spells flying out and hitting innocent bystanders.

Inside the barrier, the two men were grinning as they continued hurling spells and insults at the other. This was what they had both needed, to vent about the pressures they were feeling from the world and their friends to someone that vented right back and didn't try to fix everything. The duelling exhausted them and filled them with adrenaline that they could use and remember to get them through until the next time they needed to vent.

The unspoken agreement and support found in a bitter rival was what kept them going in this new world they didn't know. While everything else changed around them, they knew that this would stay the same, that it would remain as it was from school days and into their adulthood. Their rivalry was a stable point they could cling to, and that would never change.


	30. Midnight

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Themed (Goodbye)**

 **Prompt: Proof**

 **Word count: 1,052**

 **Beta: Dark Angel of Sorrow Returns**

* * *

 _~Meet me at midnight, Room of Requirement~_

Harry fiddled with the slip of parchment he had found in his potions textbook, wondering what he would do about it. He didn't know if he trusted the person who had slipped the note in without him noticing; but on the other hand, what if the person was trying to help him? He needed as much help as he could get; Ron and Hermione weren't much help at the moment seeing as they kept trying to get him to stop following Malfoy.

It was ten o'clock, and he still hadn't decided; the curtains around his bed were drawn and he knew the others in his dorm room were asleep. He hadn't told Ron or Hermione about the note, didn't want to hear their suspicions or advice. Everything they would say, he had already thought of. He decided he'd give this person a chance and meet them at midnight; it was either a DA member or an Inquisition Squad member, no one else knew about the Room of Requirement.

* * *

The corridors were quiet as Harry made his way to the seventh floor under his invisibility cloak with the Marauders Map in front of him. There were only professors wandering the halls so he assumed whoever had asked him to meet them was already in the Room of Requirement. He really hoped this wasn't a trick.

He arrived at the entrance and took a deep breath before pacing up and down three times. _I need a place to meet the note giver, I need a place to meet the note giver, I need a place to meet the note giver_. The door appeared and he slowly opened it, removing the cloak as he entered. The room was coloured in a neutral brown and looked as though the Slytherin and Gryffindor Common Rooms had been merged together.

A figure was standing in front of the burning fire, facing away from the door. Harry would know that silhouette anywhere, "Malfoy?"

Draco Malfoy turned around, "Potter," he greeted curtly.

They stared at each other in silence until Harry shifted, "Uh…"

"The Dark Lord wants me to sneak Death Eaters into Hogwarts," Malfoy burst out suddenly. Harry stared at him in disbelief. Malfoy took a deep breath and continued, "I know you may think this is a trap, I know I'm not acting like you're used to, but I am _sick_ of pretending. I'm done trying to hide how I really feel, I've been playing a role and I think it's time you know who I really am.

"I'm a Malfoy and my father has been the Dark Lord's right-hand man since before I was born, as such, it is expected that I will follow his footsteps and ascend into the Inner Circle when my father is no longer around. If I don't find a way to let the Death Eaters in, they'll kill my mother. I come to you for help, whatever you feel for me, _please_ help me save my mother and I'll get out of Britain with her; you won't ever have to see me again. You'll say goodbye to the Malfoy family forever."

"What makes you think I'm going to believe you?" Harry asked, "Do you any proof of your story?"

Malfoy's face crumpled, "No, I only have my word and I know that my word is not worth much to you. Even so, I give you, Harry Potter, my word as a Malfoy that all I have told you tonight is true."

Harry wasn't sure what made him believe Malfoy—perhaps the utter desperation he could see in the other boy's eyes—but he did believe him and that meant that he would help Malfoy, even if they had hated each other from the first day of school.

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy was allowed to go to Hogsmeade village on a weekend where Hogwarts students would be there to see her son. It had been decided that she would be less conspicuous to the other students than Lucius would be and she had been ordered to get an update from her son about how his mission was faring. This allowed the first part of Harry and Draco's plan to proceed. Draco would slip a portkey to his mother that would take her to the Shrieking Shack at midnight that night.

Harry reluctantly let Malfoy know about his invisibility cloak and they met up in front of the Slytherin Dorms. With both of them under the cloak, they made their way up to the astronomy tower from which they flew down to the Whomping Willow on brooms. A few minutes later, Harry successfully prodded the correct knot that stopped the Willow and motioned Malfoy to proceed into the tunnel.

"Follow the tunnel all the way until you come to an end, look up and there'll be a trapdoor that leads into the Shrieking Shack. It's up to you from there, Malfoy."

"Thanks, Potter. I swear, I will never bother you again."

"Whatever, Malfoy, just get down there before the Willow unfreezes."

Malfoy chuckled and stuck out his hand, just as he'd done in their first year, "Goodbye, Harry Potter."

"Goodbye, Draco Malfoy." Harry took the hand without hesitation and shook it before pushing Malfoy towards the tunnel, "Now go!"

* * *

There was alarm in the morning; a Slytherin student had gone missing during the night. After finding out it was Malfoy, Ron grinned and mumbled, "Good riddance," through a mouthful of food.

Hermione looked disgusted and worried. "But what if something's happened to him?"

"He's Malfoy, Mione! He's probably sneaked his way back to his father's place so he could become a little Death Eater."

"Now you're sounding like Harry, Malfoy may not be pleasant but he's not a Death Eater! He's too young to be one!" Hermione huffed.

Harry just grinned at their bickering and casually ate his toast. He knew exactly where Malfoy was, and he wasn't going to tell anyone. Malfoy had said goodbye to Magical Britain, Harry was quite happy with that, and he knew that he had been right all along. Malfoy had been planning something—even if that something caused him to escape and save his and his mother's lives. So, really, Harry had been perfectly within reason to stalk him.


	31. Centaur Divination

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Drabble**

 **Prompt: Professor Firenze**

 **Word count: 338**

 **Beta: Kuro, Trish, Aya**

* * *

There were many strange characters to be found at a school for witches and wizards, one of them being the headmaster of said school who appeared to be both colour-blind and slightly insane. That headmaster—Albus Dumbledore—hired a centaur as a Divinations Professor when the previous one had been fired. Firenze both loved and hated his job; like every centaur, he could read the stars and see what they said. He couldn't quite figure out how to teach the humans how to understand centaur divination. He had also been exiled from his colony.

Still, the way he interpreted the stars, this was where Firenze needed to be. Listening to Lavender Brown prattle on about how she was sure she was a true Seer. Whilst the girl did have an understanding of the divining arts, a true Seer she was not. There were signs of world changing events speeding up—the same events that had started when young Harry Potter had been reintroduced into the Wizarding World.

Firenze stood at the edge of the Black Lake, looking over at his old home that was the Forbidden Forest. He missed running with his colony and, so far, the stars said nothing about reconciliation between Firenze and his colony.

"You'll return," came an airy voice from his right.

Firenze looked to the voice and smiled when he saw Luna Lovegood standing next to him. Luna was a Seer, even if she couldn't access her gift fully at this time. Firenze trusted the word of a Seer, "Thank you, Miss Lovegood."

"You're welcome, you need to watch out for the wrackspurts."

"I will be sure to do that," he bowed his head gravely at her words before glancing at the suns position. "Class begins in 10 minutes, we should proceed to the classroom."

"Of course, Professor."

With one more longing look at the Forbidden Forest, Firenze turned away and accompanied Miss Lovegood to the Divination classroom where he would once again try to teach young humans the subtleties of centaur divining.


	32. The Birth of Helga Hufflepuff

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Theme: Summer (Bonus Round)**

 **Prompts: Birth, Helga Hufflepuff's cup**

 **Word count: 725**

 **Beta: Angel**

* * *

The wails echoed through the village as a baby drew in its first breath and expelled it immediately. As one, the villagers sighed in relief. The birth of the little one had been hard on the mother and they had all worried if the little one would make it or not. Hearing a cry sound through the night was the most wonderful sound any of them had heard – even if it did wake them up from some much needed rest, it was harvest season after all.

In the small home of Tamar and Wilona Hufflepuff, the midwife smiled softly as she passed the newly born girl to her mother who was looking at her adoringly. The midwife knew that that little girl would have the best life her parents and the whole village could give her. For three seasons, the village had watched and worried over Wilona as she carried another child until she finally gave birth in the warm Summer months. They hoped against hope that this time, the child would survive. And she had.

"What will you call her?" she inquired gently.

Wilona smiled besotted at the small child in her arms, "Helga. Helga Cille Hufflepuff."

The midwife nodded in approval, it was a good name. "I'll fetch in your husband then and let you two get to know young Helga. Mind you rest though, dear."

There was a vague nod in acknowledgment as Wilona's attention was completely captivated by her daughter. The midwife just shook her head slightly and walked out to get Tamar, she had seen plenty of other new parents act this same way to know she would not be getting any long responses from either of them tonight.

Tamar was outside with several other village men, all anxiously awaiting her news. She grinned at them and addressed Tamar, "You have a healthy baby daughter, Tamar."

The man sagged in relief, and a silly smile appeared on his lips as the men around him clapped him on the back in congratulations before pushing him into his own house so he could go see his daughter and wandering off to their own homes to tell their wives the good news.

* * *

The next morning, there was a knock on the door of the Hufflepuff household and Tamar went to answer it. Outside stood the whole village, all eagerly waiting to see the newest member of their community. He laughed as he saw their eager-but-trying-to-repress-it faces and went to fetch his wife and daughter.

As Helga was revealed, they all gasped in wonder and adoration. There was no doubt that this child was going to be the princess of the entire village. Wilona circled through the crowd with little Helga in her arms and one by one, each villager greeted the small child in their own way. Some bestowed a kiss on her cheek or forehead, others presented small flowers that she could look at and play with.

When Wilona had been to each villager, she returned to the door of her home and stood there with her husband as they looked out at the crowd still surrounding them. Wilfrid stepped forward from the group and cleared his throat slightly.

"We, as a village, decided that this joyous occasion deserves a special gift and worked together to create something that your child could use in the future either as a utensil or a dowry."

From within his jerkin, he drew out a small, golden cup and presented it to the new parents. "We traded some of our finest furs for the gold and Dougal crafted the cup while Basil did the fine work. We wish you and Helga well for your new adventure."

Tamar and Wilona both nodded, overwhelmed by the generosity of their village. Wilona had tears in her eyes as she gazed at the small cup that was held in Tamar's hand. The cup was made out of gold and the Hufflepuff family crest was wrought out of various different metals and overlaid on two sides. It was a beautiful piece of work. A previously unknown burden lifted off her shoulders as she looked at that cup. Helga's cup. Helga Cille Hufflepuff's cup. Her daughter would always have reassurance of a good husband even if Tamar and Wilona could ill afford a grand dowry.

Helga's new cup had seen to that.


	33. Retaining the Sword of Gryffindor

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Drabble**

 **Prompt: Sharp**

 **Word count: 384**

 **Beta: Aya**

* * *

Throughout the Wizarding World, it was common knowledge that Goblin-forged items were the best. The Goblins used special techniques and imbued their steel with the ability to take on the properties of that which it interacted with that would make it stronger. It was also known that Goblins were extremely possessive of the items they forged and would not allow any wizard or witch to hold onto that item for longer than an agreed amount of time.

Years ago, there were many Goblin-forged items out in the Wizarding World. Slowly but surely, all of them were reclaimed by the Goblin Nation until the only items still in the general Wizarding World were the items that had been lost. Such as the famous lost diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw or the deadly sword of Godric Gryffindor.

Of course, Harry Potter managed to find both of these items within seven years of being in the Wizarding World when said world had spent several hundred years searching for them. The still sharp sword was imbued with the strongest poison known – Basilisk venom – and used to kill said Basilisk. The diadem was destroyed due to the Dark Lord Voldemort using it as a soul container.

The Goblins weren't particularly happy with that piece of information, but they were more interested in getting their hands on the sword that had been evading their grasp for many years. They had wanted to retrieve it when it had first appeared in Harry's second year, but Albus Dumbledore had stopped all their attempts and then decided to will it to Harry Potter.

They had managed to return it to the Nation when Griphook had taken it from Harry Potter and his friends when they had broken into Gringotts Bank. They had also managed to lose it again when Neville Longbottom had pulled it out of Hogwart's Sorting Hat and used it to behead Nagini, proving that the sword had stayed sharp for it to have the ability to cut through a Horcrux.

Every time the Goblin Nation repossessed the sword, it would inevitably vanish and reappear in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry after it had been pulled from the school's Sorting Hat by a Gryffindor in need. No matter how many years may have passed, the sword remained as sharp as ever.


	34. One Word: Horcrux

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Short**

 **Prompt: Prove them wrong**

 **Word count: 903**

 **Beta: Aya**

* * *

There was always a fascination for Tom Riddle with living until all else had faded away. He had been even more fascinated by that line of inquiry when he had discovered that magic was actually real and that there were more people like him out there that might also have felt his fascination. He would build on their research, he thought, and find a way to live forever. That way, he could see all that there was to be seen and know all there was to know.

With multiple lifetimes at his fingertips, he'd be able to find and read all the books he wanted and research all of the topics that tickled his fancy. He would know all there was to know and when there was nothing else to learn, he'd create something new to think about. He would research all of the old rituals and spells, both of the Light type and the Dark along with the middling grounds of Grey. Nothing would stop his quest for information, not even death.

There was little to no information in the Hogwarts library when he looked, he blamed Dumbledore for that. That Light loving fool wouldn't be able to handle any books on Dark magic in his school, even if they taught how to combat said Dark magics. The man was only a Transfiguration Professor and yet Headmaster Dippet listened to him, Tom still didn't know why.

While there wasn't much to be found in the library, that didn't mean there was nothing. He had found a word that intrigued him. A small word that he had never heard before but was accompanied by an absolutely fascinating description. A way to split a person's soul and save the split off piece of soul into a separate container that should or would never fade and as long as some part of a soul remained on Earth, a person wasn't likely to leave the Earth either.

This was what he had been searching for. A Horcrux would help him remain alive even when the Earth itself had died. He was disappointed, however, that there was no more information easily accessible to him in the library. Not even in the restricted section could he find more on the elusive Horcrux. So he went to the teacher that he knew he had wrapped around his little finger. Horace Slughorn might be a Potions Professor but there was no guarantee that he wouldn't also know about some of the Dark Arts. For that was what a Horcrux must assuredly was. The darkest of Dark Arts but that wasn't going to stop Tom, not at all.

He would be researching even Darker Arts when he had his Horcrux and infinite life, he was sure of it.

Horace was very helpful and also very set against someone making a Horcrux. Especially against the idea of someone making more than one Horcrux. Tom didn't care though, seven was a powerful magical number. If he had seven Horcruxes, it wouldn't matter if someone somehow destroyed one, he would have backups. Dumbledore was watching him closely however, he couldn't begin to make Horcruxes yet.

He would have to wait until school let out for the holidays. Then he could start his plans. He would travel to Little Hangleton and use his useless muggle family for his first Horcrux. That way, the muggles would achieve something in their miserable lives beyond simply being a gene-donor to the most powerful wizard there was.

There was no way that a muggle would serve a greater purpose than to help a wizard live forever. After all, muggles had no magic of their own, so why not use them in a magic ritual that would grant them a higher purpose than that which they had faced for their entire lives? His father would aid him beyond simple creation, just as all fathers should.

He would prove Professor Dumbledore and Professor Slughorn wrong. They would not see it coming for they believed it wasn't possible. Tom knew it was and he was determined to follow it through. A person could have multiple Horcruxes. A person could live forever no matter what the laws of Earth said. No matter how much Death called for a person to submit, that person could refuse so long as they took the correct counter measures. He would prove them wrong. He would show the entire Wizarding World what real power truly was.

He would not retain his muggle name of Tom Marvolo Riddle. No, he would become the immortal Lord Voldemort. He would know all there was to know, and people would come from all corners of the world to get his advice on spells and rituals. He would show them how the muggle filth were destroying their world and erasing their history.

When he had all the power and all the knowledge, the world would bow down to him and respect him as it should. He wouldn't be weak, half-blood, Tom Riddle. He would be wise and majestic Voldemort. He would prove them wrong. Dumbledore wouldn't be able to stop him, no one would. The others wouldn't look down at him as if he were a bug on someone's shoe that had been crushed and was now an interesting experiment. They would know that Tom was the cunning snake that stalked and bit those lesser than it.

The Heir of Salazar Slytherin himself.


	35. Loony Lovegood

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Short**

 **Prompt: [** **Word] Deluded**

 **Word count: 675**

 **Beta: Aya**

* * *

Crazy. Insane. Wacko. Nuts. Barmy. Bonkers. Loony. All words that had been thrown at him when he was a young child. When he had deluded himself that somewhere out there were people that understood him, that would know he wasn't mad. Yes, he believed in things that were not commonly known, but that didn't mean that he was crazy.

He had full control over his mental state and was not prone to running around the Black Lake naked whilst shouting that there was no other way to summon this or that. He was _not_ crazy. He was merely able to see through the haze of mist that covered so many other's eyes. It was both a blessing and a curse, this ability to see. His parents had merely smiled at him when he rambled all about what he had done that day with the various creatures they thought didn't exist.

When he had grown older and still talked about them, they started giving him concerned looks and urged him to go outside more and talk to real people. He had been confused then, that was what he was doing wasn't he? The nargles may not be _people_ as such but they were real and he talked to them outside. That was when he came to the conclusion that parents were idiots who had outgrown the ability to _see_.

He believed that until he went to Hogwarts and started talking to his fellow housemates. He had eagerly brought up the subject of the nargles and the humdingers and the snorckack only to find those he was talking to staring at him strangely. When he had asked them why they were looking at him as they were, they had said that they had never heard of such creatures before and didn't believe they existed.

He had immediately sought out the Care of Magical Creatures professor and asked him about the creatures he had been able to see and talk to since he had been young. The professor had shaken his head and repeated what his classmates had said, there were no such things as nargles, humdingers or snorckacks.

Having been distracted by the nargles floating around the professor's head while the professor said this, Xenophilius Lovegood had been understandably confused but had chalked the refusal of knowledge to adults having grown up too much to be able to see the small creatures. He was sure he had once heard that adults could not accept some magics and he assumed that, for some reason, his creatures were counted as those magics.

That reasoning still did not explain why his classmates could not see that which he could see but he learned to live with it. Never again did he talk about his creatures with those around him. Instead, he went into the Forbidden Forest and spent many happy days gallivanting around with the creatures he had known since he was young and the new ones he found within the Forest's boundaries.

The professors knew that he went into the forest but did not try to stop him. He was the oddball that had delusions of creatures that did not exist. He had no friends within Hogwarts and seemed happier when he was allowed to go into the Forbidden Forest. In no time, he had become Loony Lovegood to the school and the only place to get away from his tormentors was the Forest.

So, they watched over the deluded child as he danced and weaved through the dark trees that frightened so many others. They watched as he laughed and chatted to things unseen by them. Yes, Xenophilius was mad and had completely deluded himself in the matter of strange creatures existing, but he was happy and performed well in school. Those were the more important things to the professors of Hogwarts.

He was not the first odd Lovegood to attend Hogwarts, nor would he be the last. Delusion of some sort always appeared in a Lovegood child, just like madness did in a Black child.


	36. Perfectly Okay

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Short**

 **Prompt: [Emotion] Relief**

 **Word count: 565**

 **Beta: Aya**

* * *

Many things went through her mind when she was handed a letter on the new parchment that was supposed to be an outdated version of paper. For one, she was very confused as to why someone would give her a letter written on parchment. She didn't know anyone that had any sort of interest in old types of paper and nor did her parents. It seemed a very odd choice to give a young child of eleven a letter on parchment.

And it was for her, her name was written clearly – in some type of calligraphy! – on the front of it. What was beneath her name puzzled her and worried her parents greatly. _The second bedroom on the right_. How did this stranger know where her bedroom was? And why was that important information to put on a letter?

Upon opening the envelope that bore her name, bedroom and address in green calligraphy, she found a letter that defied explanation. It also gave much needed explanation to all the things that happened around her that she had never understood. It was not normal for a toddler to make a well-loved cuddly toy fly through the air from the shelf and into their hands, after all.

Except, apparently, it was completely normal and even celebrated for some people. Those people were _wizards_. Magic was _real_. She had read and seen so many stories where magic played a part; Cinderella, Peter Pan, The Magic Faraway Tree, The Chronicles of Narnia, Matilda, James and the Giant Peach, Alice in Wonderland, The Wizard of Oz, The Sword in the Stone, and so many more.

Magic was something she had wished she had with all her might. She would often stare at a glass of water and try to make it move like Matilda had done once. She had never succeeded at moving the glass, but so many other things had happened around her that she felt there had to be some reason for it.

Her parents read the letter over her shoulder and all three of them spent quite some time staring blankly at the piece of parchment that changed their world forever. Finally, her father plucked the letter from her hands and started examining it carefully. He read through the letter several times after performing strange things to the parchment that she assumed made him more confident in its legitimacy.

"Well," he finally said, "if this is true, it would explain quite a bit."

The woman who had delivered the letter – a stern looking woman with grey hair in a strict bun – cleared her throat. "I assure you, Mr. Granger, it is very true. Perhaps a demonstration?"

Not waiting for a reply, she pulled out a wooden stick, waved it while saying something in another language and the vase sitting on one of the side tables suddenly turned into a teapot. The three members of the Granger family gasped, and her mother pulled her closer to her. Hermione stared at the teapot that had previously been a vase.

Many things went through her mind at that moment but the most prominent was a feeling of utter relief. She wasn't going mad, she wasn't some strange alien from a far away planet that had been destroyed and her real parents had sent her away to protect her. She was a _witch_ , she had _magic,_ and that was perfectly okay.


	37. Adventures

**Written for The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition**

 **Position: Seeker**

 **Prompt: Home Alone**

* * *

There were many times in his life that Harry had been alone. Of course, when the Dursleys went on holidays, he was left with Mrs Figg and all of her cats. Or Aunt Marge. He hated staying with Aunt Marge; her dogs always tried to attack him. Mrs Figg's cats were much better but then again, Mrs Figg always had stale cake that he enjoyed the sweetness of but not the dryness. So, one time when the Dursley's were preparing to leave for the airport, he hid.

Being who he was to the family, they didn't spend too much time looking for him and as such, never found him in his rather poor hiding spot of the tree just a few blocks down from Privet Drive. Instead, they gave up after five minutes, loaded the car, locked up the house, and drove off. Maybe they were hoping that Harry would run off and not bother them while they were away.

Whatever they thought, Harry was just happy to not have to deal with Mrs Figg or Aunt Marge. After waiting for an hour to make sure that the Dursley's weren't coming back, Harry walked back to Number 4. Once he reached the silent house, he lifted the rock that hid the spare key and let himself in. Apparently, the Dursley's didn't think him capable of finding out where they hid their spare key should Dudley come home to an empty house or one of them forgot their house keys when they were out.

Still, it worked in Harry's favour and he gleefully sat down on the couch in the living room. The couch was Vernon and Dudley's territory and Harry was never allowed on it. He also made himself a sandwich and ate that, though he was careful not to let any crumbs fall on the floor or the couch. Sitting on the couch and looking around the empty room, Harry wondered what he should do now.

He had never really had any time to himself and certainly never had any time where there was no chores or homework to be done. Eyes falling on the TV remote, Harry shrugged and decided to see what had his family so obsessed with the box and its multitude of channels. The first channel to flick on was a news channel and that was interesting for a few minutes. However, it grew depressing after a while.

Flicking through, Harry stopped on a animated film that showed someone waving their hands and chanting nonsense. Curious, Harry kept watching and was drawn into the magical world of Merlin and Arthur Pendragon as the young boy named Arthur searched for a magical sword under the guidance of a wizard. It was fascinating, and Harry was immediately in love.

As things tend to do, the movie finished, and Harry was once again bored. He had spent far longer than he ever had just sitting, and his body was protesting from the stillness. Getting up, he stretched, dropped his plate off in the sink, and then wandered upstairs. Upstairs was another place that he was rarely allowed to go.

It wasn't all that interesting, which was annoying to the curious boy who wanted an adventure while his relatives were away. Then he saw the door that was slightly ajar and moved to investigate Dudley's bedroom. Remembering the show he had just watched, Harry raised his hands in front of him as he'd seen Merlin do (he didn't have a sword so he couldn't be Arthur) and carefully pushed open the door.

The room was packed with all kinds of things. There were toys everywhere, a computer sat on a desk that was covered in computer games, action figures and the occasional comic. Intrigued, Harry stepped closer, avoiding the random piles of clothes and toys like he was in a dungeon and they were traps.

When he reached his goal, Harry ignored the computer, having no idea how it worked and instead picked up a comic. He had seen Dudley read these and knew they were the only things the other boy would read apart from school books he was forced to look at. On the cover was a man covered in some kind of red and gold armour with a blue light in his chest.

Harry flicked through the comic and was fascinated by the pictures. Knowing that his relatives wouldn't be home for a few days and inspired by both the comic and the movie, he raced downstairs to raid the cupboards. Several hours later and Harry had his own armour and a sword in the form of several pots and a ladle.

Completely free of relatives that would try to stop him from playing his game, Harry charged around the house and backyard. He managed to kill several monsters that were trying to destroy the Earth and even managed to trap one of them in the garden hose! It had spilled all of its evil plans, and Harry had managed to save the day from the evil monster things that had invaded.

After that, he realised just how carried away he had gotten with his game and hastily started to clean up. The flour that had somehow gotten out of the pantry and used as a weapon was swept up and put in the bin. The garden hose was reeled in, and his armour was dismantled before being put away.

That night, Harry slept well and dreamt of adventuring around with Arthur and Merlin, protecting them with his awesome fighting skills. The next day, Harry spent his time in Dudley's room reading more comic books and getting even more inspiration for his imagination to work with. The entire time his relatives were away, he read and played and quite often had clean up the inevitable messes he created while killing monsters, saving damsels and simply adventuring through the lands of the worlds he discovered.

In a few years, he would receive a multitude of letters that all said the same thing when he finally managed to read one. He was a wizard just like Merlin had been, he didn't need a sword to fight the monsters; he had a wand and magic!


	38. A Good Partnership

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Drabble**

 **Prompt: [Sound] Whistle**

 **Word count: 601**

 **Beta: Aya**

* * *

The hippogriff enjoyed flying through the sky by the large building of stones. His kin also enjoyed the place, so much so that they had settled down within the forest nearby the building. They were not hunted in this place, they were free to fly during the day or night. It was a fun place, a calm place.

The hippogriff had just landed from a flight around the large lake near the building and was walking into the forest from the lake. He did not pay heed to those who watched him, he knew that there were many reasons for a human to watch something as grand as he was. His kind were beautiful and highly dignified, after all.

He stopped with a snort as he realised that someone had blocked his path. He glared at the one who dared step in the way of a hippogriff and was pleased to see the other looked rather askance at his own daring. The hippogriff was also pleased to see that the other immediately bowed when he saw that he had gained the hippogriff's attention.

The hippogriff gazed thoughtfully at the one in front of him. He had stepped in front of a hippogriff, had blocked the path of said hippogriff, but clearly knew that hippogriffs demanded respect and had bowed. The hippogriff decided that he would give this man in front of him a chance. He bowed his front legs and lowered his head in acknowledgement of the other.

The man grinned and stepped forward, holding out his hand. The hippogriff allowed it and gave a happy sound when the other went straight for the place that brought pleasure to every hippogriff. The ruff that protected their necks from the cold was eternally itchy and they were not adept at scratching it for themselves or others of their kind.

"I'm gonna to call you Buckbeak," the man declared and then hurriedly added at the glare the hippogriff sent him, "If tha's okay with you."

The hippogriff thought it over and then snorted in agreement, shaking his head and nudging the man to continue his scratching. Buckbeak was an acceptable name while he was within this man's presence. The man obligingly continued to scratch as he asked, "Would it be okay if I showed you off to some students? Only, I'm the Care o' Magical Creatures pr'fessor and I ain't quite figured out what I'm s'posed to do."

Buckbeak nodded in agreement and the man grinned. "Great. I'm Hagrid, by the way. I'll whistle when I need you, if tha's okay."

Answering to a whistle was similar to being a pet, Buckbeak thought. Still, he didn't have to answer and if he did, he would be allowing others to see the wonderous sight of a hippogriff. Yes, Buckbeak thought, it would be good to show these humans how magnificent we are. A good partnership, he thought. And when Hagrid brought him a few dead ferrets, well, that was just a bonus.

Later, when a sharp whistle rang out across the forest and Buckbeak answered, the hippogriff was quite happy to show off to the children. He decided he liked the one who had not stepped back with the others, he showed a reasonable and understandable amount of fear but also still treated Buckbeak with the respect that hippogriffs deserve.

He did not like the one who started insulting him and his kin, though. And he made sure the other knew about it. Not enough to kill, not yet. Merely a warning. Do not insult a hippogriff or you will surely feel their wrath.


	39. The Day of CAT

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Additional**

 **Prompt: Teachers and students switching roles for a day**

 **Requirement: Written in first person**

 **Word count: 1,149**

 **Beta: Magi Silverwolf**

* * *

There are many things that go with running a school, I have found. It is not merely imparting the knowledge you have gained over the course of your life. I also find myself needing to look after the children that are in my care. I teach these children not only magic, but also the lessons I have learned throughout my own life. However, there are some things that have to be experienced to be learnt. This is why my friends and I began the tradition of letting the students teach _us_ occasionally.

We realised that though we are able to share our knowledge with those in our classes, it does not necessarily mean that that knowledge is being accepted. So that we knew our words were being heeded, the four of us introduced the day of CAT—Children Attempt Teaching. It is our way of making sure our students know the things we have taught them as well as we do ourselves.

Sometimes we have students who know nothing of what they are supposed to be teaching and instead tell amusing stories in the hope that we will not berate them for not learning. Other times we have students who have studied a subject far beyond what we have and actually end up teaching the teachers about that subject. Those times are by far the most fascinating. It is often clear that the student is passionate about the area they are teaching us and it is wonderful to see such dedication to the art of magic.

The time leading up to the day of CAT is the busiest for both teachers and students. Those that are expected to take on the role of professor for a day are often running back and forth like a cerberus who has lost one of its heads. The multitude of questions that we are asked by these mad children is staggering.

We find that we do not have a lot of time for quiet in these times, too often are such times interrupted by a frantic student who needs to know why it is not wise to put porcupine needles in a cauldron while it is sitting above a flame (the answer is, of course, an explosion of some sort will occur depending on the other ingredients in the cauldron).

It is therefore, a great relief when the day finally dawns and the students can attempt to impart their frantically gathered information to their own students consisting of Godric, Salazar, Rowena and myself. The four of us do not always attend the same student's class as there are far too many students for such a thing to happen. But there are always at least two of us, one wise in the subject and one less so.

Godric has always been abysmal at potions while Salazar is a genius and thus the two of them will attend the classes that students hold revolving around the subject of potions. I hold much practical knowledge in herbology and Rowena only factual; we are quite the pair when a student is attempting to teach us what they have learned.

When a student is teaching the subject of transfiguration, it is Godric who will pay close attention to what they are saying and know whether it is correct or not. The same goes for Rowena when a student has decided to regale us with all they know on the subject of charms. My friend is quite well versed in the usage of charms and has created quite a few of her own.

I sit now in a class taught by a rather nervous and enthusiastic young boy. He is discussing the art of wandless and wordless magic casting. It is clear on his face that this is something that means a great deal to him, most likely due to the way we found him and brought him back to Hogwarts with us. It was many years ago now, and yet I still remember it clearly. Such a thing as being chased out of a town by people carrying pitchforks and torches tends to leave an impression.

The young man, Merlin, had grown up around Muggles with no idea that such a thing as magic existed. He found himself able to do things that his friends could not and his mother had told him to hide these abilities he found himself with. Salazar and I were travelling to the South of Hogwarts Castle in order to find students and happened to be in the town Merlin lived in when he inadvertently showed his neighbours his magic.

He had good reason, yes, but it meant the end of his life as he knew it. As the young child slowed its descent from the rooftop, we searched for the one who used magic. As did the townsfolk after they had assured themselves the child was alright. I fear for our kind if the first reaction of people who have just had a child saved by magic is to try and stone the one who performed such an action.

If even the act of saving a child is not enough to gain the slightest bit of gratitude or acceptance, what sort of a life will my descendants live? Will they be shut away from those that fear and hate them? Will they grow to hate those that hate them? I hope that it is not so, but I fear it will be.

The eyes of young Merlin shine as he regales us with his knowledge, showing that this is far more than mere schoolwork. He wishes to show us the wonders of working without a wand and voice. It is clear to see that he wishes to explore magic to the fullest and that is a goal that I can wholeheartedly support.

The lesson is over now and it is time for Godric and I to let our student know how he did as a teacher. Godric expresses his approval with a very enthusiastic slap on the back, an explosive, "Well done, my lad!" and then proceeds to bound out of the classroom to his next class.

It is I who provides a touch more feedback for the young man to consider. "You did exceedingly well, Merlin. It is clear to me that this is a subject you feel strongly about. Your passion and knowledge made for an interesting class. I have a feeling we will be seeing great things from you soon."

Merlin flushed and ducked his head, "Thank you, Lady Hufflepuff."

I smiled at him and swept out of the classroom. I had another class to attend and I had a feeling this one would not be as interesting as the last. Young Horace preferred to spend his days swinging a sword around than learning the art of spell casting. It was sure to be entertaining, at the very least.


	40. Green Magic

**Written for The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition**

 **Position: Seeker**

 **Prompt: Green Lantern (2011)**

* * *

Luna Lovegood had always known that there was something strange about her. It was obvious in the way that she could see the Nargles and Wrackspurts. Even her father couldn't see them, but he believed her when she said they were real. They talked to her at times, telling her stories of things more wonderful than even magic. They told her about the stars, about the way that blobs of rock drifted through the world above the planet she and her family lived on.

She listened as her world was expanded beyond that of the Earth. When her letter from Hogwarts came, she almost wanted to refuse it. Magic was magic and everyone one who had it, knew about it. It wasn't special like the things her friends talked about. They told her about the council up in the sky that protected the universe. In Britain there was only the Wizengamot, which was hardly interesting.

In the sky there were so many different things that she could learn about. On Earth, there was magic. But she had no way of getting into space and following where the Nargles and Wrackspurts guided her, so for now she would go to Hogwarts and learn all she could there. She would learn the magic and she would learn the world. If the lessons grew tiresome, there was always the fabled Forbidden Forest that she could explore.

At Hogwarts, Luna was almost immediately given the nickname Loony Lovegood, but that was okay. She knew that to those who had no idea of the outside world, someone who could see beyond magic would be strange. To those around her, magic was the most amazing thing, it was what set them apart from the rest of the world.

Luna knew differently. Everyone had magic of some kind. Not everyone could see her friends. Not everyone could hear stories of worlds far away and know them to be true. One of her favourite classes at Hogwarts was that of Astronomy. Of course, she tended to ignore what her teacher said about the planets that they looked at.

Instead, Luna listened to the tales the Wrackspurts told her about the planets and the stories the Nargles told her about the inhabitants of those planets. It was very difficult writing essays for that subject and remembering to stay within the bounds of understanding that her teacher had. For if Luna wrote about the beings that she knew lived on Venus, the world would think her crazy indeed.

* * *

The war had come to Hogwarts. Death Eaters ran the school and they took great glee in punishing those that looked even slightly rebellious. Luna did her best for her housemates and friends. She helped them where she could, finding Murtlap Essence to aid healing, along with Dittany and learned various healing spells. She, along with a few others, kept the morale of the Hogwarts students relatively high as they continued to be tortured in their classes and detentions.

One night, as Luna was walking through the Forbidden Forest to say hello to the Thestrals and be away from the Dark aura that currently permeated the castle of Hogwarts, she heard the Wrackspurts begin to cry out in excitement. They danced in front of her, telling her to follow them if she wanted to help her human friends even more.

Never having ignored her friends before and seeing the Nargles in complete agreement with the Wrackspurts, Luna raced through the Forest as she followed the trail of light her friends left behind them. Eventually, she burst into a clearing and found a sphere of green light. Enraptured, Luna stepped closer, examining the globe from every angle.

Glancing at her friends as they urged her onwards, Luna stepped into the glow and immediately felt the difference as her magic was modified by whatever the glow was. She could feel the green glow rush through her body, she knew that if she wanted to, she could now see with her own eyes what her friends had told her about her entire life.

But as she turned her gaze back towards the darkened castle, Luna knew she couldn't leave yet. She had work to do. The green power inside her settled and she smiled slightly. She knew that there would be a period of waiting until she could finally set off exploring the universe, but that was okay. Until such a time that the Dark Lord Voldemort was defeated, Luna would stay within the walls of Hogwarts and help protect the students as she had done before. Only this time, she would be able to do it better.

No one noticed when Luna's healing spells took on a tinge of green, or when sometimes an almost transparent green shield would form between a student and a Death Eater. Luna remained quiet, she remained just as she always had been. She had never really been a target for the Death Eaters, despite being a known associate of Harry Potter. Luna Lovegood was merely the crazy girl who believed in creatures that didn't exist. What harm could she do?

They learned that she could do quite a bit of harm when the Battle of Hogwarts finally commenced and Harry Potter returned to defeat Voldemort. Green shields, no longer transparent, sprung up in between Death Eaters and their targets, reflecting the deadly spells they had cast back towards them.

No Death Eater was safe from her devastating green power as it continued to shelter those in need. There was no escape once Voldemort fell and green tendrils sought out all those with darkness in their hearts that had been acted upon with glee. Across the grounds of Hogwarts, Death Eaters fell and Luna smiled.

She could leave now, she thought as she felt the last tendril of green magic return to her. Turning her face towards the dark night sky with all its twinkling stars, Luna felt the green magic inside of her swirl excitedly. Glancing to her side, she could see the Nargles and Wrackspurts already shooting off into space, knowing she would follow them.

With a grin and a delighted laugh, Luna Lovegood let the green magic inside of her rise up and take over. It lifted her off the ground and sped her towards her next adventure. Finally, she would be able to see the things she had only been able to dream about. The universe was hers to explore and protect.


	41. Baron Theodore Nott Jr

**Written for The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition**

 **Position: Seeker**

 **Prompt: K-drama - _Oh My Ghost._ Theme - a relationship of any sort between a ghost and a human.**

* * *

One of the hardest things for the Muggle-borns that attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to wrap their heads around (besides the fact that magic is real), is the existence of ghosts. Within the castle of Hogwarts, there are plenty of ghosts that wander through the halls and interact with whomever they may come across during their wanderings.

Some ghosts are quiet and will vanish upon interaction such as the Grey Lady. Peeves the Poltergeist is not so much a ghost per say but is within the category of supernatural and finds enjoyment in playing jokes on the inhabitants of Hogwarts. There are those that belong to the Headless Hunt, who ride their ghostly horses through the corridors of Hogwarts as they hunt down the heads they have detached from their bodies. The sight is not one easily forgotten and has fuelled many a nightmare.

There are the kind ghosts, who will aid a lost student should that student think to ask. Eventually, the ghosts become as normal as the moving and thinking portraits. They are merely a part of the crazy life that living at Hogwarts creates. It is not considered polite to ask how a ghost died, the memory is usually one they do not wish to think on for any period of time. Of course, the ghost of Gryffindor will tell anyone interested about how close he came to being able to join the Headless Hunt. But there is always the exception to the rule.

Perhaps the most famous ghost to haunt the halls of Hogwarts is one known as Moaning Myrtle. She was a relatively young ghost compared to the others that floated around the castle, only being about fifty. She remained in the location of her death and her high strung teenage emotions gained her the moniker of Moaning Myrtle. The others ghosts tried to rein her in but had little success.

If a student of Hogwarts was asked who they would call the scariest ghost they had encountered during their tenure in the school, they would undoubtedly answer with The Bloody Baron. At least, most of them would. For one, The Bloody Baron was an avenger and protector. There was nothing scary about The Bloody Baron to them.

The Bloody Baron was aptly named as his ghostly form showed the blood that had been spilled upon his death. It was this fact that made the students wary of him, even those of the House he had claimed as his own - Slytherin. The Bloody Baron took it upon himself to teach the young upstarts in his House how to behave as a baron should and held nightly classes that were compulsory if you didn't want to end up walking through the cold ghostly figure several times the next day.

As one, the Slytherin House detested the lessons and would much prefer to merely curl up in the common room and work on their homework or enjoy a little down time with their friends and allies. One Slytherin quite enjoyed the lessons however, and even sought out The Bloody Baron when he was free to continue the lessons without the rest of his House present.

Theodore Nott Jr. was a quiet Slytherin. He watched, learned, and said very little but when he did speak, it was with absolute authority. The Bloody Baron had taught him that skill and he felt forever indebted to the ghost. Within Hogwarts, Theodore was almost like a ghost himself, staying in the shadows until he deemed it wise to exit and share his observations.

The other Slytherins started calling him the second ghost of Slytherin House and Theodore was fine with that. He was quite happy to stay in the shadows, unseen and unnoticed until such a time as he wanted to be seen and noticed. He knew the power of being invisible in a crowded room. He knew how to make the people in a room to spill their secrets and then forget that they had done so.

The Bloody Baron had taught him this skill as well. At night, when Theodore was unable to sleep, he wandered the corridors of Hogwarts with The Bloody Baron as company. Peeves the Poltergeist was incredibly wary of The Bloody Baron and thus never bothered the young boy as he wandered. The Bloody Baron kept an eye out for any prefects or professors that might be patrolling the corridors and Theodore was never seen.

Sometimes, The Bloody Baron wouldn't warn Theodore of the presence of another nearby. Instead, he would wait and see what Theodore would do when faced with a situation of possible capture. Every time, Theodore evaded whoever might be around the corner and The Bloody Baron would feel pride swell in his long dead chest. He had taught this young one well.

* * *

The castle was shaking as deadly spells hit the walls as they missed their target. Coloured flashes of light lit up the air in the halls of Hogwarts as The Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters fought each other in a last stand. Adults ran from fight to fight, protecting children who were determined to also protect the castle that was their home for most of the year.

It was utter chaos, the kind of chaos that it was easy to fade away in. No one paid any attention to the nook in one of the many halls of Hogwarts. No one saw the boy standing there and watching the fighting with wide eyes. They did not see the silvery form of a ghost hovering protectively by the boy, warning him when an enemy came near.

Theodore watched as those he had shared a home with for so many years rushed past to find the fighting. He watched the Death Eaters that he was supposed to be fighting alongside also ran past his place, sadistic grins on their faces as they destroyed the castle around them and cast deadly curses at whoever they encountered.

When the Dark Lord called a ceasefire, Theodore finally stepped out of his nook and made his way back to the Slytherin common room. That was where the Slytherins would be holing up and recovering their strength. Or at least, that had been the hastily created plan when the news that the Dark Lord was making his move reached them.

The Bloody Baron floated next to him and Theodore took strength from his tutors presence. It was because of the ghost floating beside him that he could ignore the faces he recognised staring blankly ahead as they lay where they had fallen. He moved past the students he had once observed living as they lay in death.

Upon arrival at his common room, Theodore took a deep breath and gathered all the things The Bloody Baron had taught him. With a single word, the entrance to the common room opened and Baron Theodore Nott entered to take charge of the chaotic situation. There was a war happening outside, even if it was now static as both sides waited for the other's play. Theodore had been watching. He had knowledge and he had the skills he had been taught since he had been eleven by a baron who had also been involved in a war.

Slytherin House would emerge as unscathed as they could under the guidance of quiet, unassuming Theodore Nott. Apprentice to their House ghost; The Bloody Baron. There was no need for loud bluster when calm confidence did the job better. A lesson learned by many who declared him unfit to take part in the small war council Slytherin House had formed.

As Theodore calmly tore his opposers to shreds and took charge of the war council, The Bloody Baron floated off to the side and nodded in approval. Theodore Nott Jr. would go far in life with the lessons he had learned from the old ghost.


	42. Lily and Petunia

**Written for The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition**

 **Position: Seeker**

 **Prompt: Lily Evans/Potter**

* * *

Lily and her sister often pretended that they were exploring strange and dangerous worlds. They would have such fun running around the park and fighting off the imaginary enemies of the day. Their mother told them stories of magic, chivalry and knights. These stories sparked the imagination of the two girls and they gleefully reenacted them whenever they were bored.

At night, Lily and Petunia would sometimes crawl under the same blanket and tell stories of their own. They would craft worlds of adventure, and play in them during the day. It changed when they met someone new who revealed why their games were so real to them. Lily had jumped from the swing, ready to attack the ogre that was waiting at the base of the tower (swing) and a boy had burst out of the bushes proclaiming her to be a witch.

Petunia had of course scoffed at his declaration but Lily had given it a bit more thought. She had noticed that strange things happened around her and thought maybe, just maybe, the boy was telling the truth. That night, the two sisters crawled under a blanket and discussed the new world that might actually exist.

They spent hours the next day exploring the powers that Lily now knew she had. They ran around the park and giggled as flowers sprouted where there had been none before. Lily tried to teach Petunia how to access the magic but had no luck. The next time they saw the boy-Severus Snape, as they now knew him to be called-he explained that Petunia had no magic of her own. That it was only Lily who had been granted the powers of magic wielding.

Still, Lily and Petunia didn't let that stop them from playing with Lily's magic. How amazing was it that one of them could actually levitate rocks and throw them at the beasties that tried to overtake their forts? And then the letter came and Lily went away to Scotland, leaving Petunia in a world with no magic.

* * *

Lily was flush with excitement as she watched Platform Nine and Three-Quarters grow closer through the train's windows. She had never been away from her family for so long and she missed her sister and parents. She couldn't wait to tell Petunia all the things she had learned in the few months she had been away.

Some of her fellow Gryffindors had shown her the owl order service, that meant she could order things from wizarding shops without going to Diagon Alley. Her parents had given her a small allowance in wizard currency and she used that to order the perfect gift for her sister for Christmas. She couldn't wait until Petunia saw it!

But that night, when she crawled under Petunia's covers to tell all the fantastic stories she had, it was to find Petunia scoffing at her fantastical imagination. Lily didn't understand what had happened to her sister that she shared everything with ever since they had been young. She left Petunia's bed quietly and returned to her own, trying to shove the sadness from Petunia's rejection to the back of her mind.

The next day, Lily asked her parents if they knew why Petunia wouldn't listen to her. They had hugged her and said that Petunia had spent too long without magic in her life. It was one thing to love it when you had someone to share it with, it was another to love it when it took your sister away from you.

That night, Lily had determinedly stayed in Petunia's bed and promised her that even if she was away for most of the year, she would never forget her favourite sister. Petunia had chuckled slightly at that. "I'm your only sister," she said.

"Yes, and that means that you're my favourite," Lily said proudly, snuggling closer to her sister. They slept side by side for the rest of the Christmas holidays and spent almost every waking moment together until Lily had to once more go to Scotland and continue her magical education.

* * *

That was how most school breaks were spent after that. Lily would come home and she and Petunia would spend all their time together. They would go out to the park and continue defending the giant tree there that become a massive fortress in their imagination. At least, they did until they decided they were far too old to be defending tree forts and instead they went to the park to giggle over boys away from their parents.

Lily told Petunia all about the boy that would not stop asking her out and Petunia rambled about the boy she sometimes saw in the school library. They laughed over the antics of James Potter and his little gang of friends, giggled over Petunia's reluctance to approach one Gerald White. Sometimes they would imagine what their life would be like if they actually dated the boys that captured their attention.

Sometimes, boy talk would be suspended due to the presence of an actual boy. Severus Snape was a common fixture in their gatherings, Petunia knew that it was only due to Lily that the rude boy actually tolerated her. She would insist that he didn't show up to their days in the park except she knew that Lily liked him and she didn't want to make her sister choose which one to spend time with.

Until Severus decided to insult her directly while Lily had run home quickly to see if their parents could organise a picnic. "Even though you're her sister, you are far below Lily. The only reason she still sticks beside you is because otherwise your parents would be disappointed in her. She has magic, and you have nothing."

"She is my sister," Petunia hissed backed, "and she loves me."

"Does she?" Severus rose an eyebrow in question, "Then answer me this, Petunia, why is it that she allows me here when she sees me all the time at Hogwarts and she only sees you during the holidays? Surely, she would prefer to spend this time only with a sister she rarely sees?

"Unless, of course, she merely spends time with you because of your parents and uses me as a buffer so that she can feel free to sometimes ignore you. Why, she's even now left us alone. Perhaps she grew too tired of your presence and had to create a reason to leave."

"That's not true!"

"Are you sure?"

The problem was, Petunia couldn't be sure. She rarely saw her sister and she could have changed so much while she went to her school of magic. Petunia only saw Lily during the holidays, what if Lily was pretending during those times?

Afraid to ask and afraid to think, Petunia shoved the whole thing to the back of her mind where it would fester and rot. When Lily once more went off to school and left Petunia behind, she wondered if Lily was even now laughing at how bland her sister was. After all, what did Petunia have?

She had no magic, she was an ordinary student with ordinary grades in school. There was nothing special about Petunia. Not like there was with Lily. Lily was the special one. And Severus was right, why did Lily spend time with Severus outside of school when she practically lived with him when she was at school?

The next time Lily came home, it was to find Petunia completely shutting her out. The insecurities she had been carrying for so long had been exacerbated by Severus' wounds and grown exponentially. They had grown into an intense jealousy and when Lily tried to crawl under the same covers and tell her stories, Petunia feigned sleep.

When Lily wrote to their parents and announced she was dating a boy, Petunia went out and picked the first boy she saw and declared him hers. There was nothing special about Petunia Evans, but she would not let Lily have all the things that she could also have. If Lily had a boyfriend, so would Petunia.

She just wished she had picked someone better than Vernon Dursley. For when Lily announced her engagement, well, what was Petunia to do? There was no choice in her mind, she had to get married to her boyfriend as well. And so, Petunia Evans became Petunia Dursley and she quite happily ignored Lily's wedding invite. She was far too busy living her own, normal, life.


	43. Family

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **Head of House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Drabble**

 **Prompt: [Event] Attending a funeral**

 **Word count: 340**

 **Beta: Aya Diefair**

* * *

There were two freshly dug graves in the earth between them, the bodies of their parents separating the sisters from each other. It had been years since the Evans sisters had seen one another, longer since they had been comfortable in the other's presence. Now they stood in the same place for the same reason, united in the loss of their parents.

Lily had been stunned when she learned of the death of her mother and father. She had thought them safe from the current war in wizarding Britain. And they were, but that didn't mean they were safe from other Muggles. So caught up in the magical war had Lily been, she had forgotten that there were dangers in the world other than You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters.

James, her husband, stood next to her and held her hand. Unconsciously, her other hand drifted to her stomach and rested there, her parents would never see their grandchild. Across from her, she noticed Petunia also clasping the hand of her own husband and holding her stomach. How far apart must they have grown for Lily to not know the name of her own sister's husband and whether or not said sister was pregnant?

She watched her sister, silently wishing her well and that the fate of their parents did not also fall on Petunia. 'Tuney would be safe from You-Know-Who, but would she be safe from other Muggles? Petunia glanced at Lily and their eyes locked. Lily smiled hesitantly and received a nod in return before Petunia turned away and left the graveyard.

Lily watched her go with one thought echoing through her mind, _be safe_. When her sister had vanished, Lily sent one more look at the caskets holding her parents. "I love you," she whispered to them, before walking away with James at her side. They would get the Knight Bus to Hogsmeade and then Albus would take them to the safe house in Godric's Hollow.

It was the last time the Evans sisters would see each other.


	44. How to Stop Constant Arguments

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **Head of House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Standard**

 **Prompt: [Spell] Silencio**

 **Word count: 1,167**

 **Beta: Aya Diefair**

* * *

They were yelling again. They were always yelling nowadays. She could hear their voices all the way down by the lake and she knew that they would be in the highest tower. They thought that by being far away from everyone else, it meant that no one would know they were fighting. Needless to say, their logic was flawed. Helga smiled gently at the two children next to her, both of them glancing up at the tower in slight fear.

"It's alright, they're simply doing what they do best. They'll calm down soon." They had _better_ calm down soon. It was almost time for dinner and if those two were still fighting, the whole castle would be on edge.

Just as she thought that, the blessed sound of silence descended onto the grounds of Hogwarts Castle. "There, see? Nothing to worry about, the two idiots have solved their most recent problem with each other."

And indeed, Godric and Salazar remained silent for the rest of the day. Although, when Helga gingerly inquired as to what the most recent argument had been about, the two of them had merely glared at each other and stalked away from her. Helga merely shook her head, she would never understand the friendship that those two had.

They constantly fought with each other and yet there were times when they worked so cohesively that it was almost inconceivable to think they ever fought. The design for the castle they currently stayed in was all Godric and Salazar, as were the defenses they created. There would be no attackers able to withstand the combined force of the two warriors.

Of course, the silence didn't last. A week later, shouting was once more heard drifting out from the highest tower and onto the grounds of Hogwarts. Helga sighed but continued to pluck the yarrow from her herb garden. Eventually, they would either come to an agreement or tire themselves out too much to continue yelling.

Suddenly, Helga straightened and cocked her head. Silence. She looked up at the tower in surprise. The yelling had only lasted for a few moments before it had stopped. Such a thing was unheard of! The arguments between Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin were legendary for their longevity. Still, Helga wasn't about to complain about the unusually short yelling period. She much preferred to listen to birds singing than two grown men shouting at each other for whatever ridiculous reason.

At dinner that day, Helga noticed that Godric and Salazar were still glaring daggers at each other. She wondered what could possibly have already made them hate the other so soon after their latest argument. Glancing to her left to ask Rowena if she knew, Helga noticed that her companion seemed rather pleased with herself.

Intrigued, Helga decided to ignore the strange behaviour of the two men and instead asked, "What has you so pleased?"

"I will no longer receive headaches from those two dolts arguing day and night. And nor will you, my friend."

Helga smiled, it was good news indeed that Rowena had found a way to prevent their headaches. The potion she currently brewed for them was rather annoying to both brew and drink. "How, may I ask, did you achieve such a miracle?"

"I have created a spell for silence. Surely you noticed that they ceased their arguing rather quickly today?"

"I did indeed notice that. It was your doing?"

Rowena dipped her head, "Yes. They were interrupting my scrying and I found myself quite unable to concentrate."

Helga gazed contemplatively at Godric and Salazar. "You must teach me this spell," she mused as she watched the two try to continue their argument through vicious gestures.

* * *

The spell was a simple one and Helga quickly mastered it. As of yet, she hadn't had a reason to use it on the two men it had been created for but she knew that a time would eventually come. They were, after all, still arguing frequently. It was merely the fact that Rowena was generally closer to them when they argued and thus was the one to perform the spell.

It seemed that the time had arrived when, as Helga was calmly wandering the corridors, she encountered a fuming Salazar and Godric. The both of them were clearly on their way to the highest tower so that they could start shouting in earnest. So worked up were they, they stormed past Helga without even noticing her, both of them obviously struggling to keep in their anger.

Helga sighed softly and followed them. As soon as the two men reached their designated arguing spot, their voices rose in tandem and the shouting began. Just as soon as it started, it was forcefully put to a stop by one rather annoyed witch.

" _Silencio_."

As one, the two turned to stare at her, clearly not having expected such a quick death to their argument. Helga twirled her wand nonchalantly, "Oh yes, I know how to silence the two of you. Did you think Rowena was the only one who knew her spell? Now then, I am going to release the spell and the both of you will sit down like the civilised people you are and _talk_ about what's bothering you. If I hear even the slightest raise in volume, I won't hesitate to silence you two again. Clear?"

Reluctantly, they nodded and Helga removed the spell, conjuring up two chairs for them to sit on after she did so. "Well? Get on with it!"

Jolted into action, Godric and Salazar quickly sat down and started to glare at each other. "You are insisting that we acquire fewer House Elves than we need," Godric gritted out.

"Oh am I now? Well perhaps that's because I don't need a House Elf to make my bed every morning and do that task myself."

"With the amount of clothes you go through, that hardly makes a difference!"

"Very rich, coming from the man that jumps into puddles of mud every time he practises weaponry!"

"Ahem," Helga cleared her throat meaningfully and the two quickly subsided. "Better. If your argument is about House Elves, I should let you know that Rowena already calculated and acquired the exact amount we will need. Thus, your argument is pointless."

Helga turned to leave but glanced back at the two stunned men, "For making me come up here and deal with you two, I think a bit of silence is in order, hmm? _Silencio_."

Humming, Helga walked down the many stairs to return to her wandering. The men she left behind glared at the space she had been and then each other, unable to speak. The spell would wear off eventually, they knew, but until then there wasn't all that much for them to do. With a silent sigh, Salazar flicked his wand and arched an inquiring eyebrow at Godric who nodded and they began setting up the chess set that Salazar had summoned, in complete and utter silence.


	45. Background and Foreground

**Written for The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition**

 **Position: Seeker**

 **Prompt: Write about Ron's relationship with another student at Hogwarts (not Harry, Hermione or his siblings).**

* * *

Ronald Weasley was the youngest boy in a family of seven children. All his life, he had been in the shadow of his brother's accomplishments and could never find something that could only belong to him. Bill had his talent for breaking spells, Charlie had his creatures, Percy had his general talent of school work while Fred and George had their pranks. Ginny didn't really need to do anything to stand out. She was the only female child so she already stood out.

That left Ron. He wasn't particularly talented at anything except perhaps chess. He couldn't stand out by playing on the Quidditch team at Hogwarts as his brothers had already done that. If he got good grades at school, he was just like Percy, and if he decided to play a prank he was taking after the twins. Nothing he did could be said to be just him with no influence from his brothers.

He didn't think anyone else felt like he did, thought it was just something that was him and only him. That was until Hermione bullied Harry into forming the D.A. and inevitably dragged Ron along for the ride. It was fun, going to the D.A. meetings. It was also scary. The reason they were doing it in the first place was so that they stood a fighting chance against You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters. But it let him interact with people who he normally didn't.

With the classes structured as they were, the Gryffindors generally only interacted with the Slytherins they shared classes with. Of course, all of those interactions were antagonistic because Gryffindors and Slytherins never got along, but the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were alright.

Ron had always thought the Ravenclaws only cared about the books they could read but he learned that they would always have a firmer grasp on the theory of a spell due to how much they studied it beforehand. He realized that just because they could understand the theory, that didn't mean they understood the practical application. Ron spent the time Harry was going over spells he knew already, walking among the Ravenclaws and helping them transfer theoretical knowledge into practical.

The Hufflepuffs, on the other hand, were great for a laugh. They would quite happily invite you to their friend group and explain the joke that had them giggling while practicing whatever spell it was Harry decided to teach them that day. This was where Ron got to know Susan Bones. He knew her name, of course. It was hard not to when her aunt was the head of the Department of Law Enforcement in the Ministry of Magic. His father often talked about how great Amelia Bones was and what a good job she was doing.

Susan and her friends accepted Ron into their group of friends when they were all practicing together. They gathered together a lot of the time and often spent a few minutes after the D.A. meeting was over and everyone was leaving in ones and twos to avoid suspicion simply chatting about anything and everything. Soon enough, Ron found himself an honourary Hufflepuff and enjoyed the time after the D.A. more than the actual D.A. meetings.

Those times were how he learned that Susan Bones was feeling the same way he did. She had a great aunt, one that almost everyone knew. One that most people would be expecting her to follow and exceed. It was a heavy burden and Ron could understand the pressure Susan was under. He had brothers that he had to stand out from, while she had to show the world that she was different from her aunt.

They started meeting at times other than when the D.A. met. They would always be discreet, as they never knew when a Slytherin would appear and declare that a Gryffindor and Hufflepuff could never be friends under normal circumstances and had obviously met in a secret and forbidden group that was not approved by Professor Umbridge. This accusation was true. They had met via a forbidden group, but that didn't mean they wanted to be accused of such a thing and draw Umbridge's attention on them and thus their movements which would draw Umbridge to the D.A. meetings they went to.

The times they met up with just the two of them was when they talked about the burden they both felt weighing them down. Ron listened as Susan talked about how much she hated going to the functions at the Ministry with her aunt because all of the people there would look at her and say "You're the spitting image of your aunt, I bet you'll be just like her."

When people said that to Susan, it made her feel as though she had no choice but to follow her aunt's footsteps and go into the Department of Law Enforcement. Never mind that she just wanted to live a relatively simple life and would be quite content being a herbologist or potions master in the background. She would never be allowed to be in the background.

Ron wanted to be in the foreground. He had been in the background all his life as his brothers completed one achievement after another and left nothing for only him to achieve. He couldn't even be the only one to follow his father into the Ministry as Percy had done that first. He felt like he was being squashed down by the things he hadn't done but his brothers had.

The two of them ended up making a pact. If they both survived the war against You-Know-Who, they would trade places. Susan would fade into anonymity while Ron would move forward into the spotlight. They'd help each other escape the expectations their family had put upon them and live their lives as they wished. Ron would probably become an Auror and Susan would get her aunt to help him with that. Susan would open a little shop somewhere and Ron would help keep the press away from trying to discover why the niece of such a prominent figure in the Ministry of Magic was working in a hole in the wall somewhere.

It was a good plan, they thought. Both of them quite content with the future they now had in front of them. It was a good thing Hermione had created the D.A. and brought them together, otherwise who knew what would have been waiting for them. Their friendship was mutually beneficial and they were grateful for that.


	46. Hidden Gifts

**Written for The Houses Competition**

 **Head of House Hufflepuff**

 **Category: Standard**

 **Prompt: [Pairing] Petunia/Ms. Figg**

 **Word count: 1,048**

 **Beta: Aya Diefair**

* * *

In the world, there were the Gifted and the Nulls. The Gifted had abilities, powers that would aid them in their journey of life. The Nulls had nothing, there was no gift in their blood that they could use. Petunia Evans was a Null while her sister was a strong Gifted. It had been fine when they were younger, before the Testing and all that ensued. Now Petunia knew that all those who were classed as Null were worthless to any who knew a Gifted, even if that was themselves.

When Lily had been declared Gifted with Charming, Petunia's little sister had steadily drifted away from the sister-bond the two had shared. There were no more nights giggling together after their parents had declared lights out—Lily had been given her own room so that she could practice her Gift without being distracted by the Null presence about.

That was when Petunia Evans decided she was going to be the greatest Null in the history of Nulls. There would be no talk of Gifts around her, no aid from those who held them. Petunia would do everything herself and would not turn to her sister or another Gifted for help. She would have a Null family. One that was as plain and boring as it was simple and delightful.

She shunned all the boys who came up to her and asked her out if they showed even the slightest hint of being Gifted. She fiercely shoved aside the crushes she had on the boys who were Gifted and instead focused all her attention on the other boys; the Null boys. Enter Vernon Dursley, a Null who held the same view as Petunia on the Gifted prats waltzing their way through life.

They were connected by their hatred of all things Gifted, bonded by being the outcasts of a society that worshipped those with abilities and condemned those without. In time, they knew everything there was to know about each other. They protected each other from the Gifted who looked down on the Nulls that they were, from the Gifted who seemed nice but would eventually turn patronising and pitying. Both Petunia and Vernon had experience with those types in their own families; both of their sisters were Gifted while they were Null.

Once they married, it was an easy decision to move far away from both of their families. They decided that Little Whinging would be the perfect place to settle down, it had the lowest rates of Gifted people near the London area. Three months, several loans, and many headaches later, the Dursley couple were moving into Number 4, Privet Drive.

* * *

They had lived in Number 4 for several months now and Petunia had been invited to join the gossip nights that the wives held every fortnight. It was a great way to get to know more people and she was happy that the community wasn't mentioning their Null status as something to be ashamed of or even to be remarked upon. She usually spent the nights sitting next to Arabella Figg who often leaned over and caught Petunia up on some past scandal that was fuelling the current one the ladies were discussing.

They became good friends in those nights and started to spend time together without the other ladies. Petunia would invite Arabella over to her house for tea and Arabella would do the same. It kept Arabella from going mad with just her cats for company and gave Petunia the ability to leave the stress of looking after a family for a few hours.

It was Arabella who noticed how Petunia flinched every time the topic of Gifts came up, and it was Arabella who asked about it softly one day when they were surrounded by her cats and sipping tea. The quiet question brought back the memory of when Petunia had lost Lily completely.

 _The Evans family waited anxiously for their youngest daughter to be tested for a Gift. Their eldest—Petunia—had been declared a Null several years ago. It was now time to see if Lily was Gifted or not. Within a few minutes of the Test starting, the examiner came out of the room with a flushed Lily—both of them beaming._

" _Your daughter is Gifted with Charming," the examiner told the anxious family. "I suggest you talk to Master Flitwick about an Apprenticeship over going to one of the bigger schools. Lily here shows an extraordinary talent."_

" _Thank you, Master Ollivander," Petunia's mother said, already pulling Lily in for a proud hug._

" _Congratulations on having such a strong Gifted in your family, Mrs. Evans."_

Arabella held her hand after Petunia had told her story and how Lily had drifted away from her after that day. How Petunia had wanted to not be Null so she could have her sister back, or for her sister to be a Null like her. How the reason Petunia hated the Gifted was because she had once wished so desperately to be one.

"Being declared a Null does not mean you don't have a gift, dear," Arabella said. "Look at me, I am no Gifted and yet I have a gift with cats." A white cat jumped and rubbed against Arabella's cheek as she said that and Petunia couldn't stop a watery smile at the sight of the cat begging for attention. "You'll find your own gift in time, don't you worry."

* * *

Petunia lay in bed that night staring up at the dark ceiling. Her thoughts whirled around in her mind and always returning to a single thought. _I am normal_. She wasn't special in any way, she had no Gift and nor did her husband. Ever since her sister had turned eleven, Petunia had strived to be as normal as possible. It was a constant that she could always count on. She decided that she would be constant for the normality.

She wouldn't change, she wouldn't try to have anything to do with Gifts. She would remain true to what had driven her all these years. The Dursley family would forever and always be completely normal and Null with no Gifts or Gifted in sight. With a small smile on her lips, Petunia rolled over onto her side and drifted off to sleep, content with her decision.


	47. Warmth in the Snow

MC4A  
Fill: 11  
Prompt: 5B (Snow)  
Representations: Harry Potter; The Dursleys; Magic  
Bonus Challenges: Gingersnap; Sneeze Weasel; Second Verse (Lovely Coconuts; Uncivil Obedience; Mouth of Babes; Non-Traditional)  
Stacked with: Winter Bingo; Romance Challenge; FF; PP; LL; BAON; Slicing Life (Y); In a Flash (N)  
Word Count: 460  
Warning: Child abuse

* * *

"You're to stay out here and not move until we let you back in, Freak."

Harry stared at his uncle as the burly man slammed the back door shut and left him out in the snowy backyard. Inside, Dudley grinned at him and snuggled further into the woolly blanket he had over him. Harry sank down onto the porch and wrapped his arms around himself, already shivering from the cold.

The castoffs from Dudley he was wearing were too loose to properly contain heat and the jumper he was wearing was only thin. Nevertheless, he stayed where he was. Even as the Dursleys relaxed in front of their fire, he sat and shivered. The snow built slowly up, encroaching on the small porch he was sitting on.

He glanced back at the Dursleys, wondering if they would let him back in yet. Uncle Vernon glared at him when he caught sight of Harry shifting and he stopped. The rules were that he stay where he was until he was let back in. If he broke those rules, he'd be in for two weeks in his cupboard with a small meal every two days.

His shivering increased and Harry hoped he would be let in soon. During the summer months, this punishment wasn't so bad but it was terrible in winter. Harry almost cried out in dismay when the Dursleys turned out the lights and headed upstairs for bed. He didn't though, that wasn't allowed. Instead he shifted closer to the house and leaned against the brick, curling even tighter around himself in an effort to conserve heat.

He stared wistfully at the shed that would at least be slightly warmer than the porch but refrained from moving there. For one, he wasn't allowed into the shed unless he was getting garden equipment; and for two, if he didn't wake up in time to be back on the porch before the Dursley's came down in the morning he would be punished.

He filled his thoughts with warm fires and biscuits straight from the oven that were still piping hot, trying to convince his mind that he was warm and not stuck out in the cold. The shivers ebbed away as his body seemed to warm up and he relaxed slightly. He didn't how or why but thinking of warm things always managed to make the cold vanish for a bit.

With one last glance at the shed at the now dark house behind him, Harry lay down and tried to sleep. As he always did when he was facing a punishment for something that Dudley had done and he was blamed for, Harry wished someone would come and take him away from the Dursleys. Surely anywhere would be better than this.


	48. Eggs in the Winter

**MC4A**

Fill 5  
Prompt: 4C (Eggs)  
Representations: Helga Hufflepuff; Salazar Slytherin; Dragons  
Bonus Challenges: Not a Lamp  
Word count: 369  
Beta: Aya Diefair

* * *

Helga ran as quickly as she could while cradling her precious cargo. She had to get to Salazar, he would know what to do. She rushed past Godric without noticing him ask what she was holding or why she was running. Nothing mattered other than getting to Salazar as quickly as possible.

Finally reaching their quarters, she kicked the door open and called out, "Salazar! I need you!"

Salazar dropped the book he had been reading and quickly walked over to retrieve one of the heavy eggs she was carrying. "Helga," he breathed out in shock. "What have you done?"

"They were abandoned in the rain. It's nearing Winter, Salazar! You can't leave dragon eggs out in the cold or the dragons will die!"

"Come, bring them to the fire."

The fire was already roaring and it took little work to transfigure a metal pot that would hold both eggs as they warmed up in the flames. When they were sure that there was nothing else they could do to aid the young beings inside the eggs, Salazar started quizzing Helga.

"Are you sure we won't have an angry mother flying over here to burn us all for taking her eggs?"

"No, Salazar. I checked. They were left in the woods, no nest or sign of another dragon anywhere. They're alone in the world."

"Not anymore." At Helga's confused look, he pulled her closer to him and explained. "I know you, Helga. You would never turn away a child alone in the world, let alone two. Was there any sign of how long they had been out there?"

She shook her head. "I don't know, Salazar. They could already have grown too cold to survive. What if I was too late?"

"Hush." He placed a kiss on her head in reassurance. "You did what you could. There is nothing more you could have done and nothing you could have done better. It is up to them now, Helga."

"I hope they survive," she whispered quietly, staring at the eggs in the fireplace.

"With you looking after them? How could they not?"

She shoved him lightly. "You're going to need to teach me everything you know about dragons."

"With pleasure."


	49. The Battle of the Wind and the Waves

**MC4A**

Fill 7  
Prompt: 3A (Wind/Breeze)  
Representations: Helga Hufflepuff; Salazar Slytherin  
Bonus Challenges: Not a Lamp; Demo (Easy Zephyr)  
Word count: 356  
Beta: Aya Diefair  
Note: I have taken many artistic liberties here as I know almost nothing about actual sprites and have kind of just created my own species but used that name.

* * *

Helga stood as steadily as she could while staring out at the view beyond the cliff she stood upon. There was a vast ocean in front of her that she knew well. She had travelled over it many times and it was as much of a home to her as the clouds in which she had lived her entire life. Her form dispersed as a particularly determined wind tried to drag her away to play. She refused to leave and gathered herself back together—as much as a being made of wind could be together.

A flash of scales came from below and she grinned, leaping off the cliff to drift down into the ocean. Salazar had finally arrived. She had never imagined she would love any other but a wind sprite, and yet here she was gleefully spending time with a water sprite.

Salazar dressed in the scales that many water creatures had, Helga dressed in the pollen that drifted throughout the wind. They had met during a tempest as both of them struggled to remain themselves and not get swept into the larger phenomenon. It was only through twining around each other that they had been able to resist and ever since then they had been close.

It was an unlikely friendship that remained strong nonetheless. Every time Helga left Salazar, she wondered if she would see him again and knew he was wondering the same thing. They were so easily broken apart and remade anew that it was a wonder they had survived as long as they did. So many of her old friends had been replaced by new versions of themselves that held only fragments of the sprites they had been before.

Sometimes they would come up to her and be as they had been before drifting away in confusion as another segment took charge. Nothing was permanent for a wind sprite. Helga only wished for a bit longer to remain as she was, and hoped that Salazar would hold on for as long as she did, too. She knew that if either of them lost the battle, the other would as well.


	50. Mirroring Confidence

**MC4A; Hogwarts**

Fill 1  
Representations: Gilderoy Lockhart; Preening  
Bonus Challenges: Machismo (Caring for appearance); Second Verse (Odd Feathers)  
Prompts: Lavender (auction); I Feel Pretty (insane); Fabric (365 Words)  
Word count: 338

* * *

The suit was mainly made of lavender fabric with darker purple accents on the lining and vest. Gilderoy twisted around as he admired his figure in the mirror. It was suitably delightful, playful, and with just the right touch of seriousness to make him seem important and distinguished. Though—if the people he was around didn't respond to his charms regardless, they were strange indeed. He had made a point of learning how to charm every person he came in contact with—especially the females.

"You look dashing, dearie," the mirror commented.

Gilderoy chuckled. "I know."

He had chosen his outfit to look like perfection with that added touch of who he was. Lavender had been his mother's favourite colour and it had quickly become Gilderoy's as well. She had often played with his blond curls, designing them into various styles and using lavender ribbons whenever they were required.

She had also loved teaching him fashion as his three sisters tended to avoid it. He owed all his knowledge to her and he thanked her every day by always looking his best. Straightening the cloak, Gilderoy flashed the mirror his most charming smile.

"Well then, I mustn't keep the people waiting."

"You'll be fine, dearie. With such good looks, how could you not?"

Gilderoy smirked; that was why he had obtained the mirror. It was nice to hear the comforting and confirming words that the enchanted object gave him. He was known in the wizarding world as charming and confident. He was charming, yes, but confidence was changeable and it could always use a bit of a boost.

A wave of his wand and an incantation of a spell had his quills and rolls of parchment flying to his hands and he tucked them into an expanded pocket before sweeping out of the room. He had an appointment at the bookstore to organise the release of his latest book. An author's work was never done.

As the door closed behind him the mirror called out, "Good luck, dearie!"


	51. Great Expectations

**MC4A; Hogwarts**

Fill 2  
Stacked With: Hogwarts; BAON; Starry Strums  
Individual Challenges: In a Flash (N); Lovely Triangle (N); Yellow Ribbon (N); Yellow Ribbon Redux (Y); Gryffindor MC (N)  
Representations: Neville Longbottom; Teddy Lupin; Insecurity; Triad  
Bonus Challenges: Found Family; Nontraditional  
Prompts: Teddy Lupin (auction); Cuddle (365 words); Thestral (Insane Prompts)  
Word count: 509

* * *

There was a quiet knock on the door that went unanswered as Teddy remained curled around the thestral that was his best friend—even if he couldn't see him. The knock came again and Teddy groaned as Mortimer butted him softly with his head. He knew he should open the door. Whichever one of his parents out there would knock once more before leaving him alone for a bit longer and Teddy didn't really want to be alone anymore. He also didn't want to have to explain himself.

The third knock came and Teddy responded by throwing the closest book— _1,001 Magical Plants and Fungi_ —in the direction of the door. The door cracked open and Neville peered in, smiling softly at Teddy.

"Hey there, Sprout."

"Hey, Dad," Teddy replied softly, his voice raspy from crying.

Neville bent down and picked up the book. He placed it gently on the bookshelf. "You know, you should really take more care of that book, it saved your Pa's life once."

Teddy scrunched up his nose. "How?"

"He needed to be underwater for a long time and the answer was in that book. Not that he knew to look there, of course. That was my job."

"That's the problem." Teddy sighed and buried himself further into Mortimer, feeling the thestral nuzzle his hair.

Neville sank down on the floor next to Teddy, fiddling with the thestral figurine Luna had made for Teddy so that he knew what Mortimer looked like. "What's the problem, Sprout?"

"You! You and Pa and Mum and even my birth parents!" Teddy flinched at the hurt crossing Neville's face and hurried to explain his outburst. "You guys are all heroes and have this amazing legacy that everyone is expecting me to live up to and I don't think I can! I'm just a kid, Dad!"

"Yes, you are," Neville said softly. "You're still young, Teddy. There's no need for you to make your mark on the world just yet."

"You guys did."

"We were in a war; we had to. Even if all you did in life was work in a shop, Sprout, we would still be proud of you."

"I don't want to work in a shop."

"Not even George's?" Neville asked.

Teddy giggled and shrugged slightly. "Maybe his shop."

Neville opened his arms in offer and Teddy crawled into them, curling up in Neville's lap and accepting the cuddle with relief. "You'll be okay, Teddy. You'll be okay."

"Promise?"

"I can't promise it'll be easy, but you'll make it. And if you ever need anything, you have me and Harry and Luna. We're always going to be here for you, even if you think you don't want our help."

Teddy sniffed and nodded as he turned even further into Neville, grasping his shirt as he sought out comfort. Mortimer shifted closer and lay his head across both human's laps, letting out a large sigh. The pile of comfort remained silent, soaking in each other's presence until Harry called them out to the kitchen to eat dinner.


	52. Baby Botheration

**MC4A; Hogwarts**

Fill 5  
Stacked With: Hogwarts; Spring Bingo; BAON; FPC; TTT  
Individual Challenges: In a Flash (N); Click Bait It (Y); The 3rd Rule (Y); Lovely Triangle (Y); Yellow Ribbon (Y); Yellow Ribbon Redux (Y); Neurodivergent (N); Quiet Time (N); Forehead Kisses  
Representations: Katie Bell; Susan Bones; Hannah Abbott; Triad; Autistic Hannah  
Bonus Challenges: Nontraditional; Second Verse (Bechdel Test; Not a Lamp)  
Tertiary Bonus Challenges: Terse; Terrarium  
Prompts: Katie Bell/Susan Bones/Hannah Abbott (auction); Narrow (365 words); Hurt/Comfort (Insane Prompts); Bingo - 2B (Fertility)  
Word count: 636

* * *

Hannah was curled up in the bed with the blanket thrown over her head and only a narrow hole to allow her to breathe properly. As she lay there staring blankly out of the little hole, her mind continued racing with thoughts. It was a stupid thing to panic over. It was something that every woman would have to think about at some point and yet she never had.

She had never thought that it would be necessary. She was lesbian and that had been enough for her mind to process when she was younger. And then when that hurdle had been cleared she had thought that maybe that was it. Surely, if she had no contact with the opposite sex, she wouldn't have to think about children.

That had been what she thought until today when Katie had brought it up. Hannah had happily participated in the conversation about children and expanding their family until Susan had brought up surrogates and Hannah had suddenly found herself in panic mode.

Surrogate meant one them would carry the child, or even children. Surrogate meant there would be approximately nine months of a foreign object within one of their bodies and Hannah had suddenly realised that she freaked out at that thought. It didn't matter that the foreign object would be a child made up of the DNA of whoever bore it and the surrogate they chose; it was still something that hadn't been there before and thus shouldn't suddenly be a part of the body.

Hannah had had to leave the table and Katie and Susan before she couldn't move. With shaky limbs, she had hurried to the bed and buried herself in its comforting depths. It was stupid to feel like this, she reminded herself again. But even though her brain was telling her how stupid it was, it wasn't stopping the unease pregnancy suddenly instilled in her.

She felt the bed dip and knew that Katie and Susan had determined she would be calm enough now to at least communicate why she had had to leave. Hands slowly pried the blanket away from Hannah's face and blinked in the light to see two concerned faces looking down at her.

"You okay?" Susan asked and Hannah shrugged slightly.

She was. It just didn't seem like it at the moment. It would pass as it always did. As she saw the concern still present on their faces, she wanted to curse her mind for panicking over nothing. It was fine. She was fine. Nothing to worry about.

"Just…all hit me," she whispered out.

Katie hummed and curled up on her side next to Hannah. "Think you could explain?"

Hannah lifted her fingers from where she was gripping the blanket and waved them vaguely. "Babies in the body… It's just…bad. Foreign. I never thought about it before but when I apply it to us, I just… It feels _wrong_."

"Okay, so we avoid that path."

"Really?" She thought that having a surrogate was a preferred option for both Susan and Katie. They had both seemed in favour of it when they were talking.

Susan brushed her hand over Hannah's forehead and pushed back the strands of fringe that lay there. "Of course, Hannah. We're in this together and we don't want to do something that makes you uncomfortable. We can always adopt."

Hannah sighed in relief and let go of the blanket to pull Katie and Susan closer. "I wish there was a magic pill that could make me not freak out about random things," she mumbled.

Katie laughed. "Sadly, magic isn't real and even if it was, we like you just the way you are."

"Even when I freak out?"

"Even when you freak out," Susan confirmed, pressing a kiss to Hannah's forehead and cuddling in closer.


	53. Dirt Child

**MC4A; Hogwarts**

Stacked With: Hogwarts; BAON; Snicket Fence; TTT  
Individual Challenges: In a Flash (Y); Click Bait It (Y); Yellow Ribbon (Y); Yellow Ribbon Redux (N); Neurodivergent (N); Tiny Terror (N); Quiet Time (N); Spring Rain (N)  
Representations: Augusta Longbottom; Neville Longbottom; Autistic Neville  
Bonus Challenges: Nontraditional; Peddling Pots; Second Verse (Not a Lamp; White Dress)  
Tertiary Bonus Challenges: Terse; Tether  
Prompts: Disgust (auction); Garden (365 words); Longbottom family (Insane Prompts); Write a fic set over three days (Survival Skills)  
Word count: 674

* * *

"Please, Neville, refrain from digging around in the ground. You may be a child, but there is no need for you to be a dirty child."

Neville happily ignored his grandmother and continued digging at the roots of the red geranium with delight. Augusta curled her lip in disgust as she watched the child get dirt all over his once-clean clothes. She had gone through this process before with Frank, and she had assumed that she would have had a rest when her son had his own children.

Sadly, the world had torn her son away from her and now she was left to pick up the pieces. And while she loved her grandson, she wished that he would show a bit more propriety. Frank had learned how to control himself when he was eight; Neville seemed far too interested in plants for him to pay attention to her.

She tapped her cane on the wooden deck twice to signify that she was growing impatient. Neville's shoulders hunched and he reluctantly left the geranium and took a stance by Augusta. She nodded approvingly at him and rested her hand on his shoulder. He sighed as she guided him back into the house and glanced longing back at the patch of dirt he had been playing with.

The next day, when Augusta allowed Neville to race outside and burn off excess energy, the boy headed straight for the geranium. Without a care for his clothes or the small critters that moved about on the ground, Neville started digging around the plant so that he could find its roots. Augusta had followed him out of the house slowly, with the grace and poise that had been drilled into her as a child and sighed as she saw what her grandson was doing.

"Neville, please refrain from digging around in the dirt while wearing clean clothes," she said.

Neville showed no sign of hearing her other than a slight nod but that was enough for her. She knew it meant he had heard and understood her. She only hoped that he obeyed her wishes and stopped getting muck all over his nice clothes. When she saw him curiously lift up a worm to his face, Augusta cringed and immediately called Neville back to her.

She could handle him occasionally getting dirt over himself as he played in the garden but she drew the line at mucking about with worms and other such creatures. Still feeling disgusted by her grandson's actions a moment ago, she quickly hurried him off to the bathroom to wash up and change into clean clothes.

Augusta didn't even have a chance to dismiss Neville to his free time the day after that before the boy was racing into his room. She smiled at that, at last the boy wasn't hurrying outside to dig around the garden. The smile lasted as long as it took for Neville to dash back from his room dressed in his clothes from yesterday and straight outside.

With a weary sigh, she pulled herself out of the chair using her cane and made her way to the back door. Sure enough, Neville was sitting on the grass with his hands already wrist-deep in the earth. He had listened to her and wasn't getting his _clean_ clothes dirty, so that was something. Clearly, the boy was determined to explore the garden and would find ways around her directives in order to do so.

Making a mental note to have a set of garden clothes for Neville, Augusta returned inside and let a house-elf pour her a cup of tea. If she must have a grandson that covered himself in dirt, he would do it in something that wasn't easily destroyed. As she watched Neville dig and examine, she felt a small smile spread across her face. As disgusting and improper as she thought it was, her grandson was having fun and that was something she couldn't begrudge him for—unless he started bringing dirt and critters into her clean home.


	54. Diamant Brut

**MC4A; Hogwarts**

Stacked With: Hogwarts; Snicket Fence; FPC; Starry Strums  
Individual Challenges: In a Flash (N); Hufflepuff MC (N); Yellow Ribbon (N); Yellow Ribbon Redux (N)  
Representations: Nymphadora Tonks; Fleur Delacour; Metamorphagus Tonks; Questioning Tonks  
Bonus Challenges: Second Verse (Odd Feathers); Chorus (Bechdel Test; Not a Lamp)  
Prompts: Nymphadora Tonks/Fleur Delacour (auction and Insane Prompts); Bedroom (365 Words)  
Word count: 680

* * *

Tonks stared at herself in the mirror. Slowly, she changed her appearance from the quirky pink and spiky hair that had defined her ever since she had decided to be different over beautiful to long wavy tresses of brown with copper highlights. Her eyes changed from green to brown. Her breasts grew enough to be noticeable, her legs shortened just enough to be strange, and her fingers became more stubby. With a few more subtle changes to her body, she was staring at the closest she could get to the original plain old Nymphadora Tonks.

She glanced out of the bathroom and into the bedroom where she could see Fleur still curled in bed. The other woman was beautiful—and not just because of her Veela allure. Fleur had gained full control over the allure before she had even learned of Tonks' existence. Tonks turned back to her reflection.

The woman shown there was what she hid behind the talents of being a Metamorphmagus. She was plain and boring. If Fleur knew what was hidden, there was no doubt in Tonks' mind that she would leave. Tonks wasn't worthy of such beauty being in her life. She was the daughter of the House of Black that had been renounced from the family.

She was a half-blood. She knew the Muggle world just as well as she knew the magical one and had never left Britain. And yet, somehow, Fleur had decided that Tonks was worth her time. The other woman could have anyone in the entire world if she decided she wanted them. What was she doing with a nobody like Tonks? Someone who couldn't even walk without tripping over thin air?

Tonks startled when she felt arms wrap around her from behind. In the mirror, she could see the still sleepy and ever-beautiful Fleur standing behind her and the tears that had started to fall without her knowledge from her eyes. She realised that she still had brown hair and eyes and hurriedly tried to turn them back to their normal state even though she knew it was already too late.

Fleur held her closer as her hair shortened and lightened. She kissed the side of Tonks' neck and said softly, "You do not have to hide from me."

"You don't know that," Tonks said, wanting desperately to believe Fleur's words but knowing she couldn't.

Fleur hummed. "Why do you think I am with you?"

"Because I'm different?" Tonks guessed. "I'm strange and weird and not like anyone else you've met."

"Because you are an interesting person. Because you have a kind heart and treat me as a person over a beast that could enslave you with my allure. It has nothing to do with how you look."

"How can it not? You're perfect, Fleur. You need someone just as perfect by your side."

"And I have that." Fleur ignored Tonks' attempt to argue and pressed on. "I am part-Veela, Tonks. I have been desired over my entire life because of my looks and my allure. I have learned to look past the outer shells that people wear to see the heart that lies within. And you, _mon bijou_ , have a heart of beauty."

Tonks let out a wracking sob and turned around in Fleur's arms to cling to the other female. She had thought that once Fleur learned how ordinary she really was, she would have left for good. And now here she was, saying that it didn't matter.

"I love you for more than how you look, _mon trésor_. No matter how you choose to present yourself to the world, know that I will be right by your side. I'm not leaving you."

Tonks pulled Fleur in for a fierce kiss after she said those words. She had never thought that she'd find someone who would accept her as she was—no matter how that might change from day to day. And now she had Fleur. Fleur, who was amazing and beautiful and everything she could ever have wished for. Tonks loved her more than she had thought possible.


	55. Fairy Fights

**MC4A; Hogwarts**

Stacked With: Hogwarts  
Individual Challenges: In a Flash (Y); Hufflepuff MC (N); Winter Wonderland (N); Yellow Ribbon (N); Yellow Ribbon Redux (N)  
Representations: Newt Scamander; Fairies  
Prompts: Fairy (auction); Rival (365 words); Snow (Insane Prompts)  
Word count: 518

* * *

The landscape in front of Newt couldn't seem to decide if it wanted to be buried in snow or blooming with flowers. He walked through it in wonder, sometimes kneeling down to examine a patch of white or an area of green. There was no rhyme or reason to the pattern of snow and plants. There were simply areas of brilliantly green grass surrounded by cold snow that should have prevented it from growing.

As he walked, he noticed changes happening farther off and started heading towards them. A tree would suddenly burst out of the ground and sprout green leaves with red apples hanging from its branches only to lose every piece of fruit and leaf to be covered in snow. It was one of the strangest sights he had ever seen

As he drew closer, he could see small beings zipping back and forth, dropping sparkling light as they moved quickly through the air. There were two of them as far as he could make out and they seemed to be fighting over the piece of land that held the tree he had seen grow and enter hibernation in a matter of seconds.

When he was only a few feet away, he could hear chirrups coming from the beings as they dashed about and apparently argued with each other. He could see them clearly now. They looked to be small humans with wings and he realised he was seeing season fairies. The Spring fairy was laughing as their rival the Winter fairy attempted to fully cover the tall apple tree with her snow.

Every time the snow settled on the tree, the Spring fairy would dance over the branches and bring back the greenness and growth that would cause the snow to fall off. Newt couldn't stop his own laughter as he watched the antics of the two fairies and they instantly abandoned their argument to face him.

Laughter gone, he held up his hands to signify he meant no harm. "Sorry, I just couldn't help noticing the war between Spring and Winter and I got curious."

The fairies gave him measuring looks before seeming to accept his words. They then looked at each other and nodded. Newt wondered what they had decided on but soon found out when he found himself being pelted by snowballs and apples. He laughed in delight as he tried to dodge the well-aimed throws of the fairies.

Apparently they had decided to stop fighting between themselves and instead fight together against him. He ducked behind a tree and quickly waved his wand to create a pile of small snowballs. He didn't want to hurt the fairies, but he couldn't just accept defeat. With a wild grin, he jumped out from the tree and started throwing his own snowballs at the fairies.

They chirruped in indignation and doubled their efforts. As Newt engaged in a war with the two season fairies, he found himself grateful that he had stumbled upon their battleground. He had never imagined he'd be able to see season fairies, let alone have a snowball fight with them!


	56. Loaded Silence

**MC4A; Hogwarts**

Stacked With: Hogwarts; BAON; FPC; TTT; Spring Bingo  
Individual Challenges: In a Flash (N); Ravenclaw MC (N); Slytherin MC (N); Neurodivergent (N); Quiet Time (Y); Yellow Ribbon (Y); Yellow Ribbon Redux (Y)  
Representations: Luna Lovegood; Blaise Zabini; Autistic Luna; Overload  
Bonus Challenges: Zucchini Bread; Second Verse (Not a Lamp)  
Tertiary Bonus Challenges: Terse; Thimble  
Prompts: Outlandish (auction and Insane Prompts); Exhausted (365 Words); Bingo - 2A (Dance/Music)  
Word count: 630

* * *

The room was full of people in fancy dress; it was a ball after all. Dancers twirled around on the dance floor with skirts and tails flaring out with their movements. A group of exhausted dancers gathered around the drinks table and chatted while sipping their refreshments. The orchestra were in a group tucked away on a raised platform with their music floating through the room and guiding the dancers as they whirled and enjoyed themselves.

Luna stood against a wall as she stared out at the mass of bodies. There were so many people and so much noise. It was worse than the Great Hall at dinner time. People were laughing and chatting and all with music trying to drown out the other sounds so that the dancers didn't lose their timing. She knew it had been a bad idea to agree to attend the Yule Ball, but Blaise had asked her and she had said yes.

Blaise was one of the only people who liked her for her. He didn't judge her for her outlandish jewellery choices or make fun of her for talking about the creatures only she and her father seemed to believe in. Almost as soon as she thought about him, Blaise separated himself from the crowd holding a cup of water up triumphantly.

She smiled when she saw him. She couldn't enter the crowd and Blaise had known that. She hadn't wanted to make him leave the ball as he was so obviously enjoying himself, but she also couldn't participate as much as her fellow students were.

"Okay?" he asked as he reached her side and handed over the water.

She clasped the cup with both hands and nodded slightly as she held it to her lips. She didn't drink it for a moment, her mind slower at processing things than it normally was with the overload. When she did finally sip it, the cool liquid helped distract her from the writhing mass that was Hogwarts.

Blaise leaned on the wall next to her. "Do you need to leave?"

She shook her head. She couldn't be the reason that Blaise didn't see the night out. She didn't want to stop him from having fun.

"It's okay if you do, you know," Blaise said. "I knew this would be difficult for you when I asked. I won't be having fun if I know you're over here struggling with overload. I don't care about some stupid ball; I want to spend time with you."

She stared at him and then headed out of the giant ballroom. Blaise followed her and they sat together at a bench in the outside courtyard. Setting the water to the side, Luna picked up Blaise's left hand and started examining it. He let her poke, pull, and prod at the skin happily, knowing it was a way for her to try and deal with the overload happening in her brain.

Even though they didn't return to the ballroom, they both considered the night a good one. Neither of them was particularly fond of loud music and too many people crammed into one space, so spending the night outside in the quiet was much more pleasurable than participating in the Yule Ball. Blaise walked Luna up to the Ravenclaw Tower afterwards, her mind was still tracking all of the variances in his hands and she was too tired to direct herself.

"Get some sleep, Luna," he said as he ushered her into the Ravenclaw Common Room. Luna nodded and gave a small wave before heading up to her room and stripping out of her ball outfit into the comfort of her pyjamas and collapsing into bed, exhausted. Tomorrow would be hard, but she had had fun and the drain was worth it.


	57. Obscured

**MC4A; Hogwarts**

Stacked With: Hogwarts; BAON; FPC; TTT  
Individual Challenges: In a Flash (N); The 3rd Rule (N); Yellow Ribbon (N); Yellow Ribbon Redux (N)  
Representations: Helga Hufflepuff; Rowena Ravenclaw; Disabled Helga  
Bonus Challenges: Found Family; Second Verse (Not a Lamp; Persistence Still; White Dress)  
Tertiary Bonus Challenges: Terse; Thimble  
Prompts: Helga Hufflepuff/Rowena Ravenclaw (auction);  
Word count: 489

* * *

Rowena stood in the doorway, watching Helga as the other moved her wand in the complicated set of twisting and flowing that allowed her to find magical children that needed them. Once Helga had fallen from one of Godric's flying brooms and caused irreparable damage to her back and legs, she had taken over locating the potential students and directing the other three to collect them.

The stairs in the castle of Hogwarts had been enchanted by Rowena to help Helga move around the castle. Helga had refused to be a burden on any one of them, even when they had assured her that she would be no burden. She had been ecstatic when Rowena had shown her the spell work that allowed her to call stairs to her and ripple one stair to another one to save her from trying to manoeuvre up and down with her limited movement capability.

Helga's wand stopped moving and a white mist hovered in front of her eyes. She stared into it for several long moments before blinking and swiping her wand through the mist, dispersing it back into the air. She smiled when she saw Rowena and held out a hand to invite her to enter. Rowena quickly accepted the invitation and clasped Helga's hand when she was close enough.

"There is a child not too far away who is forcing himself to hold in his magic. If we do not get to him soon and show him he is not evil, the situation could turn dangerous," Helga said.

Rowena kissed the back of the hand she held. "We will take care of it, Helga. You should rest now."

"Just because I am no longer able to walk as well as I was, does not mean I am incapable of performing a few spells." Helga's eyes flashed with repressed anger as she said those words and Rowena instantly felt sorrow.

"You are right, of course. You are always right, my love."

Helga snorted. "Now you are merely trying to earn my forgiveness."

"Is it working?"

"Perhaps." Helga looked considering for a moment and then said, "If you fetch me a cup of lemongrass and rosemary tea, I may forgive you."

"Of course."

Helga stopped Rowena just as she passed through the doorway by saying, "And you must fetch Salazar as well. You will need him when you meet this child."

"That bad?" Rowena asked, a concerned look crossing her face.

Helga nodded sadly. "If I had not seen him today, it would have been too late. Do not tarry, Rowena."

"I shall not." Rowena bowed her head to Helga before sweeping away to fetch both a cup of tea and Salazar. She knew that when she returned to Helga with said items she would receive more information and then both she and Salazar would be sent away to find a child on the brink of losing all control of his magic.


	58. Opposites Attract

**MC4A; Hogwarts**

Stacked With: Hogwarts; Snicket Fence  
Individual Challenges: In a Flash (N); Yellow Ribbon (N); Yellow Ribbon Redux (N); Slytherin MC (N)  
Representations: Theodore Nott  
Bonus Challenges: Bee Haven  
Prompts: Wandmaker (auction); Curse (365 words); Wand (Insane Prompts)  
Word count: 465

* * *

Theo let out a curse as the wood split under the pressure once more. He _knew_ this combination of cores could work, he just had to find the right wood that would be able to sustain it. He had thought that holly wood would have been perfect but it had cracked within the first five minutes of the spell that would bind the ingredients together. Aspen wood had fared the same fate and now, so had birch.

With the spell broken and the magic dispersed into the air, Theo dropped back against the chair he was sitting in. Two days he had been trying to figure out the perfect wood that would be able to handle thestral scales and unicorn tail hair and so far he had had no success.

When he had gone to get his wand at eleven years of age from Ollivander, he had never realised how hard wand making was. True, he had been eleven at the time and didn't have a complete grasp on what was difficult and what was not when one was an adult, but even when he had apprenticed to the wand making profession, he hadn't thought about the energy that went into each wand.

To try and keep up with the sudden boom of children that would all be needing wands in eleven years, the Ministry had put out a call for anyone interested in learning wand crafting to apply for n apprenticeship. Theo had been floating in a sea of confusion and loss after the Battle of Hogwarts and the death of his father. The offer from the Ministry had seemed like a good raft he could use to keep his head above the water.

When he had started working with wands and discovered that he quite liked it, he knew that he had made the right choice. He had a purpose now, a direction that wasn't pointed out to him by his father and the Dark Lord. Theo sat up suddenly.

 _Elder wood_. Theo remembered the wand that had changed allegiances from the Dark Lord to Harry Potter at the crucial moment in the battle and had directed the Dark Lord's killing curse back at the caster as it flew through the air to Harry Potter's hands. That had been made of elder wood and was incredibly flexible in its masters and thus should also be flexible in its cores.

Filled with a sudden manic energy, Theo leapt up from his chair and hurried to the wall of wood stored in separate drawers. He plucked out the piece of elder wood that called out to him and moved back to the desk. He placed the wood and the core ingredients in the array and took a deep breath. Hopefully this time, it would work.


	59. Presently Raiding

**MC4A; Hogwarts**

Stacked With: Hogwarts  
Individual Challenges: In a Flash (N); Click Bait It (N); Yellow Ribbon (N); Yellow Ribbon Redux (N); Gryffindor MC (N)  
Representations: Bill Weasley  
Prompts: Present tense (auction and Insane Prompts); Adrenaline (365 Prompts)  
Word count: 410

* * *

Bill moves with careful steps as he enters the tomb he and his team had just succeeding in opening. There was the possibility of a trap hidden in every single inch of the ancient building and Bill stops and scans with every step. Behind him, his team does the same. They have been taught to move this way when learning the art of curse breaking.

A small click sounds and Bill's reaction is immediate. He jumps backwards, arms out to catch any of his team that might be near him. He is just in time; a whoosh of air crosses his face as arrows fly from one wall and into the wall opposite. He glances to the side to see Herman breathing heavily.

"Are you alright?" he asks and Herman nods shakily.

"I'll be fine, just wasn't expecting it."

Bill grins at him. "You'll get used to it," he says.

"Not sure I want to," Herman admits honestly.

Hannah comes up from behind them and claps Herman on the back. "What are you talking about, Herman? What could be better than traipsing through an old tomb while facing death at every turn? It's a fantastic way to keep life interesting and the adrenaline pumping."

"You can't argue with that logic," Bill agrees.

Herman merely shakes his head and mutters about crazy people throwing their lives away at the merest suggestion of adventure under his breath. Both Bill and Hannah elect to ignore his words and focus on the next step and the next possible trap.

"Watch that tile," Hannah warns as she points at a slightly discoloured tile.

Bill nods and casts a warning light over the tile. It's entirely possible that the discolouration is just from age, but it could also be a trap and it is always better to be careful when raiding a tomb. As they dive deeper into the tomb, Bill wonders about what they will discover at the end of the road. Will it be golden treasure or the type of treasure that was stored on papyrus? Perhaps there will be nothing at all apart from a mummified body.

He would never tire of the excitement and curiosity that surged through his body when he was inside a tomb. It was lighting up his mind like a fire now and he grins as he takes one careful step after another. This job was all about the old and yet it itself would never grow so.


	60. The Promise

**MC4A; Hogwarts**

Stacked With: Hogwarts;  
Individual Challenges: In a Flash (N); Yellow Ribbon (N); Yellow Ribbon Redux (N)  
Representations: Tom the Barkeep; Immortal Tom  
Prompts: The Leaky Cauldron (auction); Promise (365 Words); The Promise (Insane Prompts)  
Word count: 489

* * *

Tom smiled to himself when he noticed the date on the _Daily Prophet_ he had sitting on the bar for patrons to read. It was the day that Hogwarts letters were sent out. Soon, his pub would become a thoroughfare for newcomers to the wizarding world and to Hogwarts. He loved this time of year. It was so good to see the future of the wizarding world enter his pub with wide eyes—still hardly daring to believe they were going to Hogwarts.

Every student that had ever attended Hogwarts had been to his pub at some point in their lives. It reminded him of what it had been like to be young and full of wonder. Now he was old and mostly kept the Leaky Cauldron open so that he did not forget how to be human or get bored. Garrick would join him sometimes in watching the young ones stream by, but the other man often had to be in his won shop to provide the new wave of wix their wands.

The both of them watched over generation after generation and helped guide them in their journey. Garrick gave them their wands, their focus, their primary way of using magic. Tom gave them a haven where they could enjoy good food, drink and company. Each menu was charmed to show prices that each individual could afford; there would always be a good meal at the Leaky Cauldron for those with little.

Tom had no need for money after living for so long. His investments from long ago kept him in the black far enough that he need not worry, even with the expenditures of owning a pub. The house-elves refused payment as they had always done, and he was the only other employee at the Leaky Cauldron.

The door swung open and Professor McGonagall entered with an apprehensive looking family right behind her. The sons were bouncing up and down on their toes—clearly hyped up on excitement after learning they had magic. Tom greeted Professor McGonagall and she nodded back at him before ushering the family to the back room that led to Diagon Alley.

He would be seeing more of that family, he was sure. He always did. Besides, it was nearing lunchtime and it was always a good idea to get a meal from the Leaky Cauldron once one had finished shopping in the alley as he was sure Professor McGonagall would tell them.

He presided over a gateway and liked making sure that those using it were well looked after. It was how the Leaky Cauldron had lasted as long as it had. Plus a fair few now-illegal enchantments. He had promised Helga that he would look after the wix in the London area and that was what he would continue to do for as long as he could. The Leaky Cauldron was a place that he could do that with ease.


	61. Time Tricks

**MC4A; Hogwarts**

Stacked With: Hogwarts  
Individual Challenges: In a Flash (N); Yellow Ribbon (N); Yellow Ribbon Redux (N); Gryffindor MC (N)  
Representations: Angelina Johnson; Fred Weasley  
Prompts: Angelina Johnson (auction); Costume (365 words); Mastermind (Insane Prompts)  
Word count: 509

* * *

The sun shone down on Angelina as she stood without moving. She stared silently down at the stone that marked the earth she stood near as the burial place of Fred Weasley. It was the day of the Yule Ball, or the day the Yule Ball had been set all those years ago. Fred had been full of life back then; he and George had always been plotting and laughing together.

She had gotten a chance to know the boy who would die only a few years later. He had asked her to the ball and while she had accepted because he was her friend and she wasn't super interested in the Yule Ball, she had grown closer to Fred as they practiced dancing and even planning the matching outfits they had both decided needed to be a statement.

A smiled crossed her face as she remembered the time-turner costume she, Fred, and George had worn. After all, one couldn't have a Weasley twin without the other close behind. At least, not back then. There were three rings to a time turner and they had thought that perfect. The shimmering gold of the magical object also worked well with their desire to show their House colours while they partied the night away.

Plus, there was so much material for jokes while wearing a time turner outfit. She huffed a laugh as she remembered the more outrageous tales the Weasley twins had told when asked about their outfits. She had found herself sandwiched between them many a time as they detailed yet another fabulous story about time. Of course, she couldn't let them have all the fun and had come up with a few outlandish tales of her own.

She still thought that the illusion spell she had released just after stating that all three of them actually _were_ a time turner but in human form was one of the best spells she had performed. It had made those looking at the trio to only see a floating time turner where they stood. The stunned looks on the faces of the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students would stay with her for as long as she lived.

It had most certainly stayed with Fred for that long. She sighed and placed a hand on Fred's headstone. "If only we actually were a time turner, Fred. We could have merged together and been safe from the war. Not that you'd do that. I wouldn't either. I just wish you were still here."

There was no reply and she hadn't expected one. Fred hadn't stuck around as a ghost when he died. Angelina let her hand slip off the stone and walked away from the grave. There were fun times to be had. She wouldn't allow herself to wallow alone in sadness when she could honour Fred's memory by making others laugh.

She held out her hand for the Knight Bus and asked for Ottery St. Catchpole when it arrived. There were pranks to mastermind and she knew just who to ask for help.


	62. Status is not Everything

**Forum Block  
** Stacked With: MC4A (SoW; SF; SS; BAON; FPC; Shipping War); Hogwarts  
Individual Challenges: In a Flash; Yellow Ribbon; Yellow Ribbon Redux; Brush; Alpha & Omega; Founder's Four (Y); Olden Times (Y); Rian-Russo Inversion; Misunderstood; More than England; Old Shoes (Y); Pre-Columbian Times; Two Cakes!; Themes & Things A; Themes & Things C  
Representations: Helga Hufflepuff; Salazar Slytherin; Rosalind; Insecure Rosalind  
Bonus Challenges: Mouth of Babes; Chorus (Ladylike; Not a Lamp); Demo (Hot Apple)  
Word count: 814

* * *

Helga moved swiftly through the corridors, searching for her errant child. Rosalind had entered their chambers with tear streaks on her face before whirling around and vanishing into the castle at the sight of both her parents. Helga had quickly rushed after her daughter with Salazar at her heels and together they searched.

Helga's mind was whirring as she searched, calling out for Rosalind occasionally as she did so. She had idea after idea about what could have upset her daughter so much but they were merely ideas. Salazar was muttering locating spells under his breath and calling out directions when needed. Finally, they came to a door that was shimmering slightly with the magic of both Hogwarts Castle and Rosalind.

Helga glanced at Salazar before knocking softly on the door. "Rosalind?" she asked.

There was silence for a few moments before the door creaked open and the room within revealed. It was a room they were not familiar with, one they had not created when they had made Hogwarts Castle. But the room was unimportant. Rosalind was sitting curled up on several pillows and hugging herself as silent tears streamed down her face.

Both Helga and Salazar went straight to their daughter's side and cocooned her between them. "Who are we sending Aurora to see?" Salazar asked, stroking Rosalind's curly hair.

Rosalind gave a short laugh. "No one, Papa. It's stupid."

"Well, I could always send your mother after them," Salazar returned and Rosalind snorted, wiping away the tears.

"That'd be worse."

"Nothing that makes you cry is stupid," Helga assured before Salazar could derail the conversation too much.

Rosalind shrugged. "I just… I don't want to be weak and the boys said that that's all I ever could be. That you were a fluke, and a freak of nature, or that Papa was letting you think that you're an Alpha and he's an Omega when it's the other way round!"

Her words had gotten more frantic as she spoke, breaking off every so often with a hitch as new tears started falling. "Everyone says Omegas are weak but Papa isn't."

Helga almost stormed out of the room then and there to hunt down whoever had told Rosalind such things and she could see that Salazar was fighting the urge as well. But their daughter was more important. They could track down the perpetrators later.

"Do you know why people look down on Omegas?" Helga asked softly and Rosalind shook her head. "It is because they believe they are better. They think that being an Alpha, or a Beta, makes one inherently smarter and stronger. Some think that Omegas are nothing more than housekeepers, that they do not possess enough brains to do more than take care of a household.

"Some young boys have the tendency to assume they are the rulers of the world and no one is above them, thus they make sure no one tries to so much as gain even footing. They do not realise that they are made of the same things that the rest of our kind is. It is the same as looking down at a dragon. A dragon is a beast, yes, but that does not mean they are not intelligent or more powerful than us. And no matter their position, a dragon is still a dragon."

"But I'm not a dragon," Rosalind protested. "I'm just a witch who doesn't know where she falls yet."

"And no matter where you are, you will be loved." Salazar smiled wryly as he continued. "Besides, have you ever thought me to be a mere housekeeper or less than your mother?"

Rosalind shook her head quickly. "No!"

"So why would you let these boys make you believe otherwise?"

"I'm not you," was Rosalind's quiet reply.

"Nor would i wish you to be. You are my daughter and your own person, I did not ask the gods for a clone of myself when we had you."

Rosalind smiled slightly and nodded, clearly feeling better. Helga looked around the room and said, "If you ever think you're not strong, come back here and see the room you built with Hogwarts."

Rosalind stared at her mother. "I built? I just needed somewhere to get away and there was a door, I didn't know I made this."

"Hogwarts is full of magic and she cares for those who live here. She made this with you; a place where anything you need will be available. You are not weak, and there is more to life than what status you may hold."

Rosalind sighed and snuggled into the embrace of her parents. She had known the boys were being idiots when they said she was worth less than them but the words had still hurt. Her parents would always be there for her though, and Rosalind couldn't have asked for a better mother and father.


	63. Warmth

**Forum Block  
** Stacked With: MC4A (ToS; BAON; FPC; SoW); Hogwarts  
Individual Challenges: In a Flash; Yellow Ribbon; Yellow Ribbon Redux; Ethnic & Present; Medic MC; Founders Four (Y); Rian-Russo Inversion; Coffee Life; Old Shoes (Y); Time Gaps  
Representations: Coffee Shop AU; Helga Hufflepuff; Salazar Slytherin; Rowena Ravenclaw; Barista Helga  
Bonus Challenges: Delicious Lie; Second Verse (Teat Juice; Not a Lamp; White Dress); Demo (Most Human Bean; Dog Star; Gingersnap)  
Prompt: First Aid, Task 2: Write about relief  
Word count: 603

* * *

The cafe was warm and inviting, with just that hint of magic that made it all the more friendly. Inside there were small tables that were occupied by small groups of two to five people, several with animals sitting on the floor next to them or playing in the designated space. A woman was manning the coffee machine and a man was on the till, greeting customers and taking their orders.

 _Foundation_ was a popular pet cafe and made even more so due to the gifts that both the owners possessed. Helga—a dark-skinned lady who often had multiple braids tight against her skull that then broke free into her usual curls at the back—held the power of warmth. She was always able to bring a smile to anyone's face and the baked goods she made were infused with comfort and love.

Salazar—a pale man with a sparkle in his eyes and a treat on hand for any animal—held the gift of animal speech. It was he who kept all the non-human visitors behaving politely and the cafe from descending into chaos. He was also the one who more often than not took the orders and passed them on to Helga.

A small bell rang as the door opened and a woman stepped in. She smiled tiredly at Salazar and Helga as she approached the counter. The lump in the front pocket of her hoodie poked its nose out and sniffed the air before burrowing back into the pocket.

"The usual, Rowena?" Salazar asked, already inputting the information.

"Please," Rowena replied, slumping slightly on the tall bench even as the warm atmosphere of the cafe granted her some relief from whatever plagued her.

The guinea pig that resided in her pocket poked her nose out again and decided to take a wander over to Salazar and squeak demandingly. Salazar rose an eyebrow before handing over a piece of lettuce as Rowena huffed a laugh at her guinea pig's actions.

Helga—who had started making Rowena's normal drink as soon as the other woman stepped in the door—placed a cup of mocha and a muffin down in front of Rowena and held out her hand to her friend. Rowena took the hand gladly, both for the comfort of friendship and the sharing of Helga's gift. Nutmeg—the guinea pig—let out a few squeaks of thanks before returning to Rowena's hoodie pocket that was conveniently at the right height with lettuce in tow.

"Go sit," Helga said softly. "Cass is here today and I'm sure she wouldn't mind a few pats."

Cass was the retired service dog Helga and Salazar had adopted and quite a hit with the people who just needed to sit in silence and pat a willing animal. Rowena nodded at the suggestion, picked up her cup and muffin, made sure Nutmeg was secure, and then made her way to Cass' corner of the cafe.

Helga and Salazar watched her go, both worried for their friend but knowing that Rowena wouldn't talk about what was disturbing her sleep until she was ready. Another customer entered and the two of them got back to work—Helga increasing the output of gentle warmth as she did so.

 _Foundation_ was a place to escape and know you could be calm thanks to Helga's gift. It was a place you could be assured your animal would be well cared for and perhaps ensure there was nothing wrong with them. Walking into the cafe caused many a sigh of relief as the weight of the world was lifted for a few moments by the wonderful calm warmth sent out by Helga.


	64. Peaceful Gardens

**Forum Block  
** Stacked With: MC4A (Shipping War; Summer Bingo; AV; StL; BAON; FPC; LiCK; FR; TY); QL; Hogwarts  
Individual Challenges: Short Jog; Yellow Ribbon (Y); Yellow Ribbon Redux (Y); The 3rd Rule (Y); Lovely Triangle (Y); Ravenclaw MC; Slytherin MC (x2); Neurodivergent; Brush; Quiet Time; Summer Vacation; Rian-Russo Inversion [x3] (Y); Real Family; Flags & Ribbons [x3] (Y); Misunderstood (Y); Letter of the Day (Y); Old Shoes (Y); Ways to the Heart; Times to Come (Y); Shipmas (Y); Themes & Things A (Y); Themes & Things B (Y); Location, Location, Location; 3rd Rule Bribery (HP Edition) (Y)  
Representations: Luna Lovegood/Daphne Greengrass/Tracey Davis; Mortimer  
Bonus Challenges: Creature Feature; Wind Beneath; Chorus (Clio's Conclusion; Three's Company; Nontraditional; Teat Juice; Ladylike; Not a Lamp; White Dress)  
Tertiary Bonus Challenges: LiCK (Tansy); FR (Satisfaction)  
Team: Wigtown Wanderers  
Position: Captain  
Prompt: QL - Ten of Cups (Upright: Inner Happiness, Fulfilment, Dreams Coming True); Bingo - 1D (Sun)  
Word count: 1,012

* * *

There was an apple tree in the garden that had stood there for several years. It was old and gnarled now, but still provided crisp and sweet apples for those inclined to pick them. The garden was situated behind a small house painted with murals and bordered by useful herbs. A stream bubbled through the end of the garden providing a peaceful background noise. The tree whispered in the breeze as it provided shade for those wanting to rest under its branches without the glare of the sun. Luna, Daphne, and Tracey took advantage of it now.

Daphne was running her fingers through Luna's hair, braiding and undoing the braids while Luna weaved daisies together in a chain. Tracey had her head on Luna's lap as she dozed in the shade. Mortimer was playing in the stream that cheerfully ran alongside them, splashing the water and prancing about happily.

It was a wonderful afternoon and perfect for lazing out in the sun. When their schedules lined up and the day was perfect, they always came out into the garden to relax together. It reminded them of days next to the Black Lake at Hogwarts when the tensions in the castle and the world faded away until it was just them.

The tradition was what had brought them together in the first place, and it would always hold a special place in their hearts. Daphne and Tracey had been hiding from the politics and expectations of Slytherin House—along with the constant whispers of Daphne bonding with Tracey to save her from her angered pureblood father—when Luna had stumbled upon them fluttering her hands behind her head furiously as though to brush away shouting thoughts.

She had gone straight for the tree Daphne and Tracey were sitting under and climbed it easily with practiced movements—uncaring about the two Slytherins watching her curiously. They hadn't spoken that time; Luna stayed silent up in the tree while Daphne and Tracey curled together and stared out at the Black Lake.

The next time the two Slytherins had gone to the tree, Luna was already sitting in its branches. She'd smiled when she saw them, tossing them each an apple from her bag before climbing higher until the branches and leaves concealed her. The quiet acceptance and welcome had been lovely and they had decided then and there to do the same to the quiet Ravenclaw that was often taunted and bullied for being different.

As such, when they next crossed paths at the tree, Daphne and Tracey had offered Luna an ear if she wanted to vent as well as some of the shortbread they had brought with them. Their relationship had grown from there—sharing food and stories of happy and not so happy origins until they knew each other almost as well as they knew themselves.

An apple fell from the tree they sat under now and into Luna's waiting hand. Mortimer perked his head up when she whistled and eagerly trotted over, still wet from his playing. Luna offered the apple and the thestral took it happily, blissfully crunching the sweet fruit that was his favourite thing apart from raw meat.

"You spoil him," Tracey murmured sleepily as she shifted into a more comfortable position, now laying face up instead of sideways.

Luna shrugged unrepentantly. "He deserves to be spoiled."

Mortimer nosed Luna's hand in a silent request for more, closing his eyes happily as the tree dropped another apple into her hand and she held it out for him. After he had finished the fruit, he knelt down on the grass beside the three women and nuzzled into Tracey's side (who immediately started patting him—no matter how much she said it was Luna who spoiled Mortimer, Tracey was just as guilty of spoiling him).

Daphne laughed and draped a thin braid over Luna's shoulder. "We all deserve to be spoiled a little bit. Now, how about some lunch?"

At affirming sounds from the other two, Daphne pulled over the picnic basket and started emptying it of the lunch that she and Tracey had prepared earlier. Egg and lettuce sandwiches were followed by cucumber and mayo ones, which were followed by strawberries and chocolate as well as a chocolate and vanilla mousse with brownies.

Tracey sat up and leant against Luna who was leaning against Daphne who rested against the old apple tree. It was with well-practiced movements and knowledge that the food was distributed between the three of them, each getting their particular favourite (with Mortimer getting a banana).

An afternoon under the old apple tree was an afternoon spent in paradise, and this afternoon was no exception. It was quiet and comfortable, shared between three people who knew their small family and loved them unconditionally. Such an afternoon had seemed almost impossible for each of them at one point and now it was real and happened often.

After eating and relaxing a bit longer, they decided a swim in the stream would be fun. Luna scrambled onto Mortimer's back and the thestral eagerly carried her over to the stream while Daphne and Tracey laughed and followed behind them. The cool water glittered in the sun as the four of them splashed into the stream.

That night, they would all curl up in front of the fireplace with Mortimer on the rug and Luna, Daphne, and Tracey on the large beanbag. They might discuss their current troubles or something that happened at work—artwork customers commissioned from Luna, passive-aggressive flower arrangements for Tracey, or the latest man to think Daphne as merely a nurse instead of a battle-hardened combat medic.

But that was for later. For now, it was an afternoon of bliss and happiness, the kind that dreams are made of. The day was warm, the water cool, and the family happy—it was an afternoon that could never be duplicated and yet would be repeated over and over in various ways. There had been hardships in the past and there would be hardships in the future, but now there was merely love and happiness.


	65. Greenhouse Trust

**Forum Block  
** Stacked With: MC4A (Shipping War; NC; FPC; RoB; SF; HoSE; T3; War); Hogwarts  
Individual Challenges: In a Flash; Advice from the Mug; Yellow Ribbon (Y); Yellow Ribbon Redux; Gryffindor MC; Slytherin MC; Neurodivergent; Quiet Time (Y); Golden Times; Rian-Russo Inversion; Flags & Ribbons; Letter of the Day; Old Shoes (Y); Two Cakes!; Themes & Things A; Themes & Things B; Feeling So Logical [Cynical]  
Representations: Soulmates; Autistic Neville; Herbology Prodigy Neville; Fifth Year  
Bonus Challenges: Rock of Ages; Second Verse (Not a Lamp; Persistence Still); In the Trench  
Tertiary Bonus Challenges: HoSE (Schooner; Sanctuary); T3 (Terse; Terrarium)  
Prompt: Geology Task #1 (Write a fic with the setting Hogwarts Greenhouse)  
Word count: 911

* * *

Neville was running his hands over the leaves of the harmless plants that lived in Greenhouse One. Professor Sprout had given him a key to the greenhouses at the start of his fifth year and he was eternally grateful for it. The greenhouses had become his sanctuary from everything happening up in the castle.

Umbridge was ruling the school with an iron fist and not allowing anyone to do anything she didn't approve. There were rules upon rules to follow. Groups that had been in existence since the Founders had had to apply for permission to stay active. Filch was patrolling the corridors along with some overeager students to enforce Umbridge's rules.

Being friends with Harry Potter had almost never been so dangerous. Association with the 'bold-faced liar who just wanted attention' wasn't something one particularly wanted. But Neville couldn't find it in himself to care about that. His grandmother had warned him of what might happen before he returned to Hogwarts and he had taken her words under consideration before deciding that friendship was more important than following authority blindly.

He wasn't going to abandon Harry like the rest of the wizarding population had. If Harry thought that You-Know-Who was back, then Neville believed him. Harry had never lied about anything truly important before to Neville's knowledge. Plus, Cedric Diggory had _died_. There was no escaping that fact, no matter how much the world wanted to bury it and their heads in the sand.

The door to the greenhouse opened and Neville froze in his movements, thoughts spinning faster. There were very few people who would come into the greenhouses and Professor Sprout had already left for the day which left—

"Hello, Neville," Daphne Greengrass said.

Neville closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. He didn't want to deal with this. This was one of the things that sent him to the greenhouses in the first place. Plants were simple, they knew what they needed to live and he gave it to them. They had rules. People had rules too, but their rules were always changing and generally muddy to Neville.

Of course, he knew what Daphne wanted. How could he not? The same symbol of stars rested on their wrists. It was a clear signal that the Fates thought they belonged together and Daphne was one who liked to listen to the Fates. Neville didn't know—the Fates were as confusing to him as the rest of the people who surrounded him.

He tried to ignore Daphne but she sidled up next to him and looked at the plant he had been stroking. "How are you?" she asked.

Neville thought about pretending not to hear her. Eventually he sighed in slight defeat; that would be rude and his grandmother had drilled into him that he shouldn't be rude if he could help it. "Fine," he grunted.

Okay, so he was still a little rude. But he wasn't doing that great and the presence of Daphne just made his headache pound harder as his brain tried to work through the thick fog and figure out what to do in the situation he was now in.

Daphne rested her hand on his arm, so close to the mark he hid under the band that was common in all people who had marks. He flinched and drew his arm away. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and he nodded in acknowledgement.

He didn't know why he was so adamant that he not acknowledge Daphne as his soulmate but he knew he didn't want to. Maybe it was something to do with her Hogwarts House (though he doubted that, it had never really mattered to him), or maybe it was just that he wasn't great at people, or even that he had no desire for romance in his life.

"One day, you'll believe that I love you," Daphne said quietly.

Neville huffed a laugh. "I already do," he admitted. "It's me that's confusing."

"I can try and help?" she offered.

And Neville remembered why he never spoke to her or anyone about the whole soulmate situation. The only exception to this was when he was tired and unable to sleep—when he found himself in the kitchen with a cup of tea and his grandmother willing to listen—that he spoke of his feelings and fears. In the quiet of night and the comfort of the warm kitchen, it seemed easier to talk. His grandmother never brought up the chats in the light of day—they were for long nights only.

Neville didn't _want_ help, and he didn't think he _needed_ it either. He'd figure it out eventually. It'd help if the world would stop going to pieces around him and he was able to actually think. He shook his head and turned his attention solely to the plant in front of him. He heard Daphne sigh and then slip over to the other side of the greenhouse where her Herbology project sat.

They worked in silence as they often did. Neville liked this part, the quiet presence of someone that he could trust—five years of school and so many times Daphne could have hurt him or his friends and didn't had led to a trust that had never been spoken but was there all the same. He didn't trust her as a soulmate, not yet and perhaps not ever, but he trusted her as a human who wouldn't purposefully cause him harm.


	66. An Extra Thread

**Forum Block  
** Stacked With: MC4A (Shipping War); Hogwarts  
Word count: 428

* * *

Tom stared at the dead body of the girl who had been in the bathroom crying while he called upon the basilisk. She had been in the wrong place at the wrong time—at least, for her she had been. For Tom, it was almost perfect. He had been researching Horcruxes and here was someone that he could use for his first one.

As soon as she had announced her presence, he had recanted the spell and sped through the ritual buried in an old Dark tome and, when the basilisk looked at the girl and the girl died, felt the magic take hold of him, grasping at his soul and tearing it apart. His soul, for whatever stupid reason, didn't want to go but he pushed it away, rejecting it from his being and forcing it into the journal he had in his bookbag.

The girl was dead, and Tom was one step closer to an immortality no one could take away. He turned his attention to the journal that now housed his soul, only then noticing that the single, incorporeal red thread wrapped around his right index finger had been joined by another—and it was leading directly to the journal held in his left hand.

He frowned in thought. The red thread led to his soulmate, that was true for everyone who possessed such a thread, and now it led to a piece of his own soul. He supposed it made sense for a part of his soul to be considered his soulmate—there were people who theorised soulmates were parts of a single soul, after all.

Then he wondered if Abraxas had gained an extra thread as well and decided it would be best to a) leave the bathroom with the dead girl before he was found and b) talk to Abraxas. He waved the basilisk back into the pipes that led to the Chamber of Secrets and set out into the castle at large, following the red string that didn't lead to his bookbag to Abraxas.

Abraxas was in the library—as he often was—and buried in a dusty tome that must have been retrieved from the very back of a shelf in the very back of the library—or possibly from the restricted section. He looked up when Tom approached and started to smile before his eyes obviously caught sight of two red threads leading in Tom's direction instead of the usual one.

"Tom…what?"

Tom grinned in a way that Albus Dumbledore would consider proof of his evilness. "I did it."


End file.
